


We're a Chorus

by QueennorKing



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game), Nier Gestalt | Nier
Genre: (then resurrection), Canonical Character Death, Eventual Romance, Figuring out what comes after Ending E, NON-GENDERED READER, OC, Other, POV First Person, Post-Canon Fix-It, Reader-Insert, after ending E, human reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-08-03 16:38:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16329698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueennorKing/pseuds/QueennorKing
Summary: After the end of humanity, androids were desperate to find something to believe in again. Some built extravagant lies, and others decided to get their hands dirty and fix it. There's a new start, a new life, only now, we're stuck. We need people, androids, in order to save the human race; teachers, engineers, scientists, caretakers, parents, so that we may not only manage to survive, but live.My name is HL-6, I was born in tank and raised by a Pod. I'm the first human to walk the Earth in thousands of years, and if we're unlucky, the last.





	1. The First/Last Human

**Author's Note:**

> I basically wrote this on a whim? I've been trucking along on it for a while when I've had the time.  
> A human reader/oc working on rebuilding humanity and figuring out what's been going on with all this YoRHa stuff. Eventually it'll become a romance.  
> Gender and description is left unspecified, I use they/them pronouns.  
> This is still ongoing, I just posted this in a rush yesterday and didn't notice.

I used to live in a world of perpetual sunset. Over and over, day after day, the sky never changed. The stars stayed overhead, the sun rested on the blood red horizon, and the moon remained just out of sight. It was a beautiful, stagnant world, and though I love the stars and their beauty, I came to the realization that they do not care for me or the Earth I stand upon. They do not care about the problems this world has faced, do face, and will face in the future. For all their ethereal beauty, they are still far away in the depths of space, and I am here. We will never cross paths in our lifetimes, both long and short.

My world was so small. Just myself, Twelves, Water Lily (sometimes), some land and lots of ocean. Oh, and the bunker that served as my home for the first whatever many years of my life. Pretty sure I’m in my twenties, early to mid. Twelves knows. The bunker is mostly underground, and is mostly labs. I did have a bedroom, a rec room, and a place to eat. Twelves came to watch over me during certain parts of the day, but it mostly stayed in the labs. Water Lily traded with us. We gave her materials and replacement parts and she gave us food, water, and any other thing Twelves and I needed.

It was… small. And lonely.

My job was to learn. About humans. I studied every subject. Language, literature, mathematics, sociology, psychology, philosophy, religion, culture, art, science. I excelled at some of them better than others, and the ones I didn’t excel at were drilled harder into my head until I got something right. Thankfully there was plenty of old human stuff to go through, and a lot of it was fun and interesting. Like music, and dancing, books and movies. There were things like video games that I will never be able to experience, like motorcycling, or driving, or school, but it was nice to read about them.

I also did a lot of mechanical work, taught by Water Lily. The old word for it was an engineer. I built stuff out of scrap and wires, learned how to take things apart and put it back together again. It was more out of necessity than in interest. When you’re the only one with four fingers and a thumb, it was up to you to perform the more dexterous tasks in the lab.

Especially when the human race hinged on our success. Insofar, I was the only successful experiment. But, that came at the cost of my childhood, and the touch of another person. Grown in a test-tube from embryo to age five, fed experiences, language, how to walk, how to talk, how to eat; how to be human. And then, I was born, and my only family is a pod, abandoned by it’s creators when the I – the mission – was left for something better.

My name is HL-6, the last human on Earth, and the first human to walk it in thousands of years. My family, Pod: 012, and I have to find a way to bring back humanity. But, there’s a problem. There’s only the two of us. We need people. Researchers, engineers, technicians, resources… caretakers. We need people who will raise the babies, the children. And it’s up to us to find them.

Water Lily told us of the Resistance. A group of androids fighting back against the machines. They’re across the water, but they’re also the largest camp, unless you wanted to go into the Kingdom of Night. Pod: 012 was adamant we stay in the sun, because apparently humans aren’t meant to live without it. Which was fine. I would miss the stars, but I didn’t need them.

We found schematics and parts of boats and got to work. It took months with just the two of us, but we got it to work. It took us across the water with few unfortunate accidents. Some... holes… some… luggage gone overboard… that part was my fault, not the holes. We’re just lucky that it wasn’t anything too important, just some clothes and some… rations. But! If we make it across the desert real fast than we’ll be fine!

Except the desert is really, _really_ hot. And, as it turns out, I do not like being hot.

After another wave of intense nausea and dizziness, I naturally fell on my ass. It felt like my whole body was going numb from the heat, sweat was pouring down my face and neck, into my face mask and fogging my goggles. I took a few moments and focused on breathing.

After a few deep breaths, I took off my goggles and wiped my face with the back of my hand. I felt something on my backpack shift then a shadow fell over me, giving me a small bit of respite.

Pod: 012 lowered itself until my canteen of water was just in reach. I grabbed it and took a long pull as it went back to hovering above me.

“Twelves.” I gasped, water running down my chin.

“Yes, HL-6?” It asked, monotone and placid as ever.

I took a deep breath, pulling my knees to my chest and tucking my head in between them. The heat was positively oppressive, pressing in on all sides and smothering you in hell. I summoned every ounce of my frustration towards it. “It’s too hot for these clothes!”

It paused for a moment. “Pod: 012 to HL-6, these clothes will protect you from the suns rays. Without them, you can obtain serious burns, and possibly a deadly disease known as skin cancer if you are without protection. We are unable to treat you if such occurs. Furthermore, the goggles and face mask protect your eyes and mouth. If sand were to get into your eyes, it could cause an infection…”

It went quiet for a moment, the way it does when it voices a rare opinion.

“And I was under the assumption that you favored this outfit.”

“That was BEFORE the desert!” I took another shaky breath before putting my goggles back on. “Can you help me up, please?”

It gave me its hand. I know it’s technically not a hand, but it has a thumb and for sanity’s sake I call it a hand. I manage to get back on my two feet with it’s help. I took another sip of water, slipping my mask back up before I gave the canteen back. Twelves hooked it back on my bag as I shouldered it’s weight.

“Thanks, Twelves.”

“You are welcome, HL-6.”

Taking a look around us and there was… sand… sand… and more sand. And some cliffsides far, far, _far_ off in the distance. Swallowing my bitter frustration, I took a step forward and nearly slipped and fell right on my face.

“Are we sure the cities up ahead?” I griped once I recovered (after a nearly disastrous accidental attempt of the splits).

Twelves returned to hanging over my head. A familiar holo appeared, a replica of the map Water Lily had given us of this side of the water. It didn’t show where the Resistance Camp was, but she had told us to look around the city once we got there. At the moment, Twelves and I were in a round, flat expanse that ended up being much bigger in real life. A little arrow pointed at our current location.

“Pod: 012 to HL-6, continuing in this direction will bring us to the next destination.” It said, mentioning the marker to the opening between the cliffs. “Which will then take us to the city.”

 I nodded half-heartedly, forcing one foot after another. “Okay, okay. How much longer?”

“One moment… If we continue at this pace, we will arrive at our destination in six hours.”

Without another word, I decided to pick up the pace.

* * *

 

Gestalts and Replicants. Two incredibly important parts of humanity’s story, yet ultimately became it’s downfall as well as their own. In theory, it was genius, and a miracle that it even came to be. Take out the soul, create a shell, and then reunite them.

But the relapse. The relapse destroyed everything. It made Gestalts go mad, it made Replicants die. And, eventually, there was none of them left.

I heard from Twelves and Water Lily that the androids blamed a certain model. Twin redheaded androids that were meant to watch over the Replicants until the souls came to claim them. Apparently, one pair of the models ruined the whole project, but it was up in the air if it was on purpose or on accident.

Either way, the rest of that model began to get persecuted by others who blamed them for the extinction of humans. Many of them were killed, and I couldn’t find a definitive answer to what happened to the rest. I just know something did.

I always felt it was stupid that several sisters were hurt for the actions of one pair. And I always felt that there must’ve been something more to the story than what I heard, though no amount of research or questions got me anywhere.

But, it did give me some other things. The area around where those models lived was an interesting one. Small communities of sentient Replicants going about their lives, aware that the world was nearing an end but unaware of exactly what and how. Creatures known as “Shades” that terrorized them, creatures that I know as Gestalts. Were they relapsed, or were they aware? I don’t know.

Then, Sleeping Beauty, a sentient computer disguised as a tree meant to hold 2,000 years worth of memories and history that eventually began to “forget” and die. Twelves said that we were lucky to have gotten much of anything from it at all, but it’s sad that so much was lost. I wonder how many lives that tree held. I wonder if they were all human.

The name Yonah came up in the files that were salvaged, and a man that spoke to Sleeping Beauty. The man’s appearance and age were unclear, but whoever he was, he loved a young girl named Yonah more than anything. That was the cleanest report that we had. I sometimes wonder who this girl was, and who the man was, and why it was them that Sleeping Beauty decided to remember when it forgot everything else.

I spent months combing through Sleeping Beauty’s files for something. There were vague mentions of red eyes and a mysterious fatal illness; those came up a lot. Sometimes I would get scraps of a description of a person, sometimes a place, but I found little else about Yonah and the man.

After I was finished with Sleeping Beauty, I began research on the red eyes and the sickness. It didn’t take long, but I was shocked that I hadn’t heard of it before. The truth behind my ancestors’ demise. White Chlorination Syndrome, Legion, and Red Eye.

There were survivor stories, doctors reports, child experimentation, demonic element experimentation, and it went on for hundreds of years. It was terrifying. I was terrified. These hundreds of years of documentation and one thing always stayed the same: fear. And, eventually, it all concluded in death.

It kept me up at night for weeks. I had never been outside my small world. What if White Chlorination Syndrome was still a thing? And the master of the Legion, Red Eye? When I did dream, I dreamt of everything I knew crumbling into salt and falling into the ocean. I dreamt of red eyes appearing out of the sunset and swarming us, ripping Twelves and I into pieces with no one to remember or miss us.

I eventually turned to Twelves like a frightened child, and what I guess is like a parent, it put my fears to rest. After the majority of humans died, so did the illness, and the legions of crazed humans eventually rotted away. It did warn me to avoid anything that seemed like snow, for it might not be what it seems. But, humans should be able to inhabit certain parts of the world just fine.

I still invested in a simple mask to cover my nose and mouth and some goggles. A chance is not something I’m willing to take.

I don’t know why my mind brought me back there as we made through the last of the desert. Well, at least that was what it seemed. When we finally climbed out of the funnel we only found more sand. With the addition of pipes and machines.

A tall one waddled out of left field and I ducked back around the corner, reaching for my weapon. I listened intently, waiting. It stopped in front of the mouth of the cave and I felt myself stop breathing, my chest tightened, and I could only shake until it finally continued on it’s way.

Slowly, I peaked out of the crevice, and when I saw none of the (many) machines were looking my way, I snuck out.

I’m no android. I can’t replace parts as easily as them, and if I did it would take a little more than a few moments to be able to use it to it’s full potential. So, best to avoid all of that.

Twelves flew around me, the holo appearing once again. “Entering these tunnels will take us to our destination and provide cover.” A few oblong shapes glowed red. “I suggest using them.”

“Yeah.” I breathed, eyeing a few lumbering machines nearby. “Okay, cool.” Carefully making my way through the sand, I came to the opening of one of the long pipe and climbed in.

“Careful, HL-6, and do make sure that you keep any bare skin from hot metal. It could cause serious burns, even third or fourth degree.”

“Good to know.”

I shuffled through on my elbows and knees, feeling my backpack scrape along the top of the metal. It was like an oven, and I was starting to feel a little overbaked. Sweat dripped off my nose and plonked onto the gritty, sand covered metal.

Did it ever rain here, I wondered. I had read in books that desert storms were terrible, but nothing looked like water had touched it in decades. Well, the moon hadn’t, so I suppose it wouldn’t be too weird if the rain hadn’t either.

We got through the first pipe without incident. Then, when we were switching from our second to the third, a machine hopped out of the sand with every intention ripping us to pieces. Thankfully, we managed to scramble inside and it was unable to follow.

“It’s wearing the same thing.” I panted, watching the machine pace outside the opening.

“What was that?”

“It’s outfit. It’s like those back in the desert that attacked us, too.” I said, referring to our infrequent run-ins with the machines before.

Twelves paused. “These machine lifeforms seem to be mimicking certain human cultures.”

“I will get you, android!” The thing outside screeched, it’s bright red eyes glaring at us and blocking out the sun. “I will kill you, intruder! You all deserve to die!”

“Well, I mean…” I muttered. “Okay.”

Twelves, who was in front of me, fired up it’s defense system and fired a warning shot. “Pod: 012 to Machine Lifeform, you seem to be sentient, so I will give you this one warning: leave my ward and I be.”

“Or what!?” It screamed, recovering from the blow.

“Or be seriously harmed, possibly even killed.”

It screamed again and tackled the pipe. Rust and sand fell from the domed ceiling as it shook on it’s foundations. “ANDROIDS!” It’s metallic shriek pierced my ears. “MURDERERS! THIEVES! ALL YOU DO! IS! KILL! EVERYTHING!”

I recognized the shrill hum and turned away, closing my eyes. Twelves fired it’s laser canon a moment later, and then there was silence.

“I did warn you, Machine Lifeform.” It said, putting it’s weapon away.

After another moment of quiet, I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. “It… spoke like a human. Or an android.” I heard myself say. Something hurt, right there in my chest, in my gut. “Why did it speak? I thought they couldn’t do that.”

Twelves was quiet again. “I do not know the answer.” It admitted. “Perhaps, there isn’t one.”

We sat in the pipe for a while after that, with a corpse behind us and the city ahead, silent.

“I’m tired, Twelves.”

“I know, HL-6, but we cannot rest here. We are almost at our destination.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Then… okay.”

* * *

 

It started when I was eight, and I was afraid that there were faces in the corners, staring at me. I went to Twelves in tears.

“Poddy, there’s faces in the corners!”

“Pod: 012 to HL-6, there are no faces in the corners.”

“But – But I _saw_ them!”

It had paused for a moment, as if it were considering me.

“Show me, HL-6.”

I reached for it’s hand, and it floated down so that it could give it. I took it to my room and pointed to the farthest corner, where the light never quite seemed to touch. “It’s – It’s there.”

It was quiet again.

“Pod: 012 to HL-6, there are no faces in the corner.”

“How do you know!?” I let go of it’s hand and wiped my eyes. I was crying again. “They’re there! I saw them!”

“Why are you crying, HL-6?”

I curled further into myself, trying to breathe. “Because I’m scared.” I whispered. I felt so small. So stupid. So insignificant and embarrassing. So sad. So scared.

I felt it come to hover in front of me.

“HL-6, why are you scared?”

I hiccupped and bawled even harder.

“Because I – I woke up. And there were th – things chasing me with big red eyes! And when I woke up, there was somebody staring at me from - from the corner!”

Twelves was quiet.

“HL-6, look at me.”

I didn’t want to. I was so scared of seeing that face again, glaring at me. But I trust Pod: 012, and I hesitantly uncovered my eyes.

“There is no face in the corner. It is only dark.”

I looked at it again, and didn’t see a face. But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t come back.

“Really?” I whispered.

“I would never lie to you, HL-6.”

“You promise?”

It took a moment, like it didn’t understand the question or it’s nature. But, it answered.

“I promise.”

I stared at it for a bit longer, as if it would shout SIKE any moment. It didn’t.

“Okay.”

I realized, as we made our last few steps out of the wild desert, that the further from home I got, the more I thought about it.

Finally, with the city in sight, we saw our first android in days. I’ll admit, I got a bit too excited.

“Oh, an android!” I gasped, managing to make myself walk a little faster. She flinched slightly when she saw me scrambling towards her. “Awesome, hey, do you guys have anything to eat?” (“huh?”) “Maybe some fresh water?” (“who-“) “A bed? Someplace to sleep?” (“wait-“) “We’ve been traveling for _days_ , and I – “

“Hey,” She shouted, “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU?”

“O-Oh!” I blinked out of the spell. “Um, well, we’re here to see the Resistance. Sorry about that, by the way, sorry if I startled you. But, like I said, we’ve been traveling for… wait, how long?”

“Thirteen days, 16 hours, 34 minutes, and 29 seconds.” Twelves said helpfully.

“Yeah.”

The stranger gave us both hard looks. “Hold on, I’m not taking you anywhere until you explain a few things. One, why food? Two, why sleep? And three, are you leaking?”

“Ah.” I got quiet. The only other person who knew who I am was Water Lily. We didn’t know how other androids would take to me, but it was too late to turn back. “I’m HL-6, this is Pod: 012. And, I’m human.”

She stared at me.

“You’re human.”

“I’m human.”

“Bullshit.”

Well, it was better than a panic, which was what I was afraid of.

“No, I really, really am.” I said, letting my hands hit my thighs. “I’m not leaking, I’m sweating. Also, borderline dehydrated, probably. And have been walking for, what, ten hours? That sounds about right. I mean, I won’t cut myself open for you, but I can show you a picture of my brain and skeleton, if you want.”

The woman was shaking her head. “No, no, the humans are on the moon.” She said vehemently. “If you’re human, what are you doing on Earth?”

Silence. I turned her words over and over in my head, but still couldn’t quite process them. “Sorry?” I squeaked.

She marched towards me. “Humans are on the moon.”

“No, they’re not.”

“Yeah, they are!”

Twelves floated to be between me and her. “Android – “

“The name’s Jackass.”

“Jackass, humans have been extinct for thousands of years. Exact date is unknown, but it was before the alien invasion. HL-6 is the first human to live since then. Whatever rumor you heard of humans on the moon is false.”

“Bullshit.” She repeated, but then again, weakly. “That’s bullshit.”

Then she was quiet. Twelves fire up it’s hologram and projected some pictures of my development.

“Pod: 012 to Jackass, these are classified pictures of HL-6’s development.” Her mouth was open in a small ‘o’ as she stared at pictures of me in my test tube, my skeleton, and a print of my internal organs in silence. “I assure you, HL-6 is human, and if you would please show us the way to the Resistance, we will be grateful.”

She took deep, deep breath, then released a most vicious hiss. It was then I realized why women were once considered more intimidating then men in many ways. I liked it.

“Fine.” She relented. “Fine, fine. Whatever. Follow me.”

The walk to the Resistance base was quiet and more than a little awkward. I walked behind her, my gun in my hands, eyes scanning side to side, but always coming to the back of her head. She pulled us through a maze of buildings, muttering something about avoiding the machines.

It was when we passed by an old vending machine that I tried to break the silence. “So, uh,” I rubbed the nozzle of my rifle. “I thought that when we would run into androids and tell them I’m human, well, I guess I thought they would ask more questions.”

She turned her head slightly, acknowledging that I spoke. “I still don’t trust that you’re human.”

“That’s fair.” I nodded. We passed the a huge crater and I couldn’t stop myself from peaking over the ledge. My mouth puckered like I just ate one of Water Lily’s lemons, as I had done once when I was younger. A bad idea. We didn’t know you weren’t supposed to eat them straight off the tree.

It was a huge crevice, full of debris and rubble. Machines of all kinds were hanging out nearby, some of them unlike anything I had ever seen before. Long ones floating through the air, and a some with huge, gorilla like arms. They were all just standing there, optics red, waiting. I assumed this is what the old humans meant by a ‘meat grinder’.

“Ohhh, yikes.” I groaned, backing away. Though the city was at least twenty degrees cooler than the desert, sweat broke out on my forehead.

“Yep.” Jackass agreed, continuing to lead us along.

After a little more walking, she slowed. Past the skyscraper we were hugging was a large clearing, and it was crawling with machines. Jackass peaked around the corner, giving the area a sweep.

“Hey, Pod.”

“Yes, Jackass?”

“Are you equipped with weapons? Preferably a big ‘fuck you’ cannon?”

“If you are asking if I am battle ready, then yes.”

“Great.” She pointed to the clearing. “Because the best way to the base is a straight shot. But if this guy’s as squishy as they say they are, then that could be a problem.”

Pod: 012 paused for a moment. “Are you recommending that I fire my cannon in order to clear a path?”

“That’s the plan.”

 Twelves opened and its’ cannon began to glow. “I am ready whenever you are.”

“Alright.” She gave me a nod and checked her weapon. “Let’s go.”

She ran out from cover and I followed to the best of my (quite worn-out) ability. For a moment, it seemed like we wouldn’t need to bring out the heavy artillery, and then several unblinking eyes turned red.

“Twelves!” I yelped in fear, sounding just like a little kid again. A large machine atop two legs ran forward, pulling back it’s large fist. It would’ve flattened me into the ground if my Pod hadn’t pulled in front of me.

The familiar hum filled the air, followed by a flash of blinding light. Then, all that was left of the machine was its’ feet. In fact, that was what was left of a lot of machines that just so happened to be behind it.

“Awesome!” Jackass crowed, running towards a pair of white sheets. “C’mon!”

Breathless, I tried to keep up as best as I could. Twelves was just behind me, giving us cover fire. A thought struck me and I reached for my belt and pulled out a bomb. With my other hand balancing my rifle, I yanked the trigger with my teeth and turned on my heel, throwing it in an arc. I didn’t get to see the explosion, as I almost fell backwards. Thankfully, Twelves was there to grab my hand. It pulled me up as it flew forward and dropped be back on my feet.

We ran into a scrawny alley as ear-splitting _boom_ erupted behind us, hopefully taking the rest of the machines with it. We took another turn and slowed, the sound of music and chatter embracing the previous, lifeless quiet.

Androids, more than I’ve ever seen in my life, living, talking, trading, creating. A small piece of respite, alive and warm, amidst the leftovers of humanity’s end. Jackass was waiting for me beside a small patch of flowers.

“Bombs, huh?” She shrugged, “Not bad.” She turned and walked away.

Assuming that I was still supposed to follow, I awkwardly stepped in behind her and put away my gun. She brought me to a beautiful android who was handing out reports and orders to a few others.

“Anemone.” Jackass said. “Gotta borrow you for a minute.”

The woman android, Anemone, turned to face her, then gave myself and Twelves a once-over. “Good to see you, Jackass. Who is this?”

Realizing it was my turn to speak, I gave her little bow. I still wasn’t sure how to greet superiors. “Hi, I’m HL-6, and I – “

Jackass slapped a hand over my mouth. It tasted like sand. She gave her a pointed look. “You’re gonna want to hear this.”

Anemone considered us for another moment, then dismissed the few others nearby and brought us further under the tent. “Alright,” She said, now that we had some privacy. “What is it?” Something in her tone sounded hopeful, I wondered what she wanted the news to be.

Jackass nodded to Twelves and I. “These two claim that this guy is a human.” Her voice became grave. “And that everything we heard about humans on the moon is a lie.”

Anemone was quiet for a long, long moment, then turned her attention to me. “You said your name is HL-6?” I nodded. “My name is Anemone, I’m the leader of the Resistance here.” She pinned me with a look, searching my face. “I don’t suppose you have any proof to your claim?”

I looked to Pod: 012, and it fired up a large holo with my skeleton and development cycles. “HL-6 is the first successful attempt at restarting the human race. Most information is confidential, and I will not disclose it in public, but I will be happy to forward all reports, videos, and other information you ask for, as long as I am able to do so.”

Anemone examined the holos as they flicked forward slowly, she then turned her attention to me. Without her having to say anything, I took off my gloves and held out my hand. She raised her brow at me and began to give me her hand before I said, “Take off your glove.”

With a moment of hesitation, she pulled her glove off and gave me her hand. I navigated her fingers first to the inside of my wrist, to my pulse, and held it there for a long moment. Her eyebrows raised slightly, but I knew it wouldn’t be definite, since androids also pumped fuel through their system, but unlike humans, they did not have a jugular. I slid her fingers to my neck, just under my jaw, where the blood pumped hard and strong.

After a moment, I saw her jaw drop slightly.

I smiled, “Could give you some of my blood if you want.”

A laugh caught in her throat. “I know you’re probably joking, but that would be nice actually.”

I gave it some thought. “I think I’ve got a syringe in here somewhere.”

“Pod: 012 to HL-6, as long as you do not give away your emergency transfusions, I give my permission.”

“Thanks, Twelves.”

“Yes.” Anemone nodded. “Thank you, Pod.”

Jackass leaned in, “Just so you know, I want in on that blood action.”

I gave her a cool look. “I thought you didn’t believe that I was human.”

She crossed her arms and shrugged. “You didn’t let me feel your pulse, either.” Her shoulders fell, looking away. “Still not sure I believe you about the moon, though.”

Anemone nodded slowly, hugging her elbows thoughtfully. “Yes, I’m afraid we’re going to need more information about that as well.”

“Hold on.” I held up my hands, “I want to know how that rumor even started. But, before that,” my stomach growled, “I really need to take a shower, sit down, and drink some water. And eat.” My stomach growled even louder. “ _Really_ bad.”

Both androids blinked in quiet surprise.

Thirty minutes and a nice hot shower later, the four of us were circled around a table. This room looked like it was once used as a place to crash, with two beds at separate walls of the room. My clothes were in the wash, so I was wearing my spares, a dark cotton shirt and some warm pants. I sat, digging into one of the rations that I hadn’t lost to the ocean, with a glass of fresh, purified water. A pitcher of the stuff sat in the middle of the table, already half gone.

“We have someone in the forest who specializes in human cuisine.” Anemone said, standing to my right and watching me eat with a mixture of curiosity, amusement, and a touch of disgust. I mean, I probably deserved that, I wasn’t using my best table manners as I slurped up the freeze-dried spaghetti. “We’ve already sent word for him to move base here. He should arrive in a few days.”

“Awesome!” I grinned, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “I’m looking forward to it!”

Jackass was studying me raptly as I ate, but I more or less ignored her. It wasn’t the first, nor the last time that I would be studied so.

I took another long draw of water then poured myself some more. “So,” I said, a weight settling atop my lungs. “The moon rumor.”

Anemone nodded gravely, finally taking a seat in front of me. “Yes.” She turned her attention to Twelves, giving him a critical once over. “And I must ask about your pod.”

“It can speak for itself.” I pointed out, taking another hungry bite.

It’s hands shifted, the way they do when it agrees. “Correct. I have enough sense of self and data to answer any inquiries you have about my design and/or origins.”

Neither of them seemed to either expect or be surprised by it’s answer. I guess when you’re an android you live long enough to see tons of weird things. In any case, Anemone turned her attention to Twelves.

“Pod –“

“You may call me by my designation, Pod: 012. Twelves is a nickname, but I prefer HL-6 be the only one to call me so.”

She paused for a second, processing his words. “Pod: 012, do you know anything about Project YoRHa?”

There was a moment while it searched it’s data.

“Pod: 012 to Anemone, affirmative. Previous project leaders moved onto a new project with the title before our mission was completed.”

Both androids perked up. “Is that all?” Anemone asked. “Do you know anything else?”

“Pod: 012 to Anemone, negative. No further data about Project YoRHa is found, as I was not a part of it.”

“I thought you looked like one of their pods.” Jackass muttered.

“Pod: 012 to Jackass, I assume you are referring to a new series of pods, possibly a part of Project YoRHa. I am one of the very first pods my creators manufactured, and so, can only be considered an older model. If I may add, I was also in need of new parts as time went on. HL-6 has provided excellent patches.”

Previously watching this conversation like a, uh, tennis game (is that the saying?), I nodded, but said nothing.

Jackass and Anemone shared a mutual look of dismay. “Well,” Jackass sighed, “What’s your mission, then? Figure I might as well ask before we move on.”

Twelves paused again, like it was taking a deep breath. “Previous project leaders, names classified, programmed myself and five other pods to restart human life on Earth. They had found useable DNA samples in an unnamed facility, and programmed my fellow pods and I to birth a human at any cost. However, they did not stay to watch over us, and left us to our devices.

Now that we have succeeded, HL-6 and I have come across an obstacle.”

I swallowed my bite and turned to the androids. “Neither of us can restart humanity on our own, not with the resources we have and not without help. We need to expand our laboratory, engineers, scientists,” My eyes fell to the table, “and most importantly, we need people who’ll raise the babies.”

Jackass’s face fell slack. “What?”

“You mean,” Anemone leaned forward, “like family units? Like what humans had?”

I nodded, twisting my hands in my lap. Despite practicing this over and over again, nerves still picked at me like I was carrion. Maybe they wouldn’t do it. Maybe I couldn’t convince them to. “Pod: 012 kept me in a tube until I was physically mature enough to handle myself on my own, but we can’t do that to every baby. Those years are crucial to human children.

“That, and if we had the ability to birth multiple children at once, then repopulation can go faster. If we had teachers, we can have school, and if we have androids willing to do so, these children will have parents. I mean,” I ran a hand through my hair, “it won’t be immediate. Of course we’ll have to find people who’ll be willing to do those things, and we’ll need to build facilities, homes, maybe refurbish old ones that were left behind. But it can happen!”

I begged them with my eyes, hands clasped in front of me. “Please, we came to the Resistance to find anyone who would be willing to help. If you would give us the chance – “

“We will.”

“I promise we won’t be in your way – what?” I stuttered.

Anemone’s eyes burned with excited passion. “We’ll help you, of course we will.”

That’s when Twelves spoke up. “Pod: 012 to Anemone, we are sincerely grateful. However, we would first like to know about the rumor of humans on the moon.”

Her shoulders fell, but she kept a straight face. “Right.” She leaned back in her seat, seeming to organize her thoughts. “We first heard about humans on the moon after the aliens invaded.” She glanced at Jackass. “About the time when YoRHa first started showing up.”

Jackass picked her head up, her eyes wide. “Yeah.” She whispered. “Now that I think about it…”

Anemone folded her hands on the table, her gaze distant. “At first, we were under the impression that humans had died. It was a miracle to hear that the last of them were on the moon this whole time. The Council of Humanity created Project YoRHa to fight against the alien and machine lifeforms. I believe the plan was, when the machines were defeated, then humans could come back and repopulate the earth.”

I haltingly turned to look at Twelves. Though she tried to hide it, I could hear the tinny desperation in her voice. How badly she wanted to believe this. I thought back to when the aliens first came to Earth, that was thousands of years ago.

My heart sank. Twelves and I were about to debunk a couple thousand year old lie, and probably ruin many lives in the process. That well and truly sucked, but… now maybe their hopes could become a reality?

My hands tightened around each other. My future, and the future of humanity, hinged on the choices of the androids. Twelves and I could try and try all we like, but without them, there was no possibility of success.

Now that androids were a part of our history, it seemed our destinies are intertwined as well. Perhaps far into forever, if forever was possible.

“Pod: 012 to Anemone, that is a lie.” Twelves stated firmly, “Humans perished several thousand years ago.” A new screen popped up, showing documents and pictures of the aftermath of the plague. “When white chlorination syndrome threatened to push humanity to extinction, Project Gestalt split humans in two, but as androids were created to watch over them, I assume you know this.”

When they nodded, it continued, “Then you must also know that any and all humans that were not split perished. There were no plans to go to the moon, as Project Gestalt was humanity’s sole focus. Yet, it unfortunately failed, and all Replicants and Gestalts relapsed and perished.”

The room was silent as the two androids stared at Twelves, but also far beyond him. It seemed to consider it’s next words carefully, perhaps sensing the tension. “I do not know who created such a harmful lie, or why, but you have my apologies.” And it shut off it’s projector.

Deciding to step in, despite my skull feeling tight around my brain and my heart hammering against my ribs, I said, “Yeah.” I swallowed, “And, if you’re still not sure, Twelves and I have lots of archives about all of that if you need to look at it.” I tucked my chin against my chest, watching them uncertainly. “And, please let us know if you need some time to process this.” _I’m sure it’s a lot. Maybe too much._

“I think I’ll need to look through those archives.” Anemone said after a moment, her expression intense.

“One moment,” Twelves _dinged_ , “Sent. I have included all relevant data, as well as some reports of our mission if you are interested.”

She nodded. Jackass was still stuck in her own head, unresponsive to what was going on around her. Her eyes were glassy and her posture was stiff. For the first time, I could see that she was essentially a robot.

The air was heavy for a few long minutes after. I picked at my food, knowing that I was starving but no longer wanting to eat.

Anemone took a deep breath. “I’ll send you all the map data for the city.” She said quietly, “It’s safest here in the camp, but feel free to explore. As for all of this information, I’d rather I look over it and talk about it with a few confidantes before making a decision.” She paused in thought. “Though, we’ll have to tell everyone that you human soon.”

I shrugged, “I don’t see a reason to postpone it, but I leave the decision to you.”

And that more or less finished that conversation. Jackass and Anemone left the room, presumably to let the news sink in and look over all the data. Leaving me to my devices, I finished my (now cold) dinner and nearly fell into one of the beds, knocking out immediately.

* * *

 

There were originally six pods created to work on the mission. For a time, they all worked harmoniously, then, as time went by, they all quietly began to break down and eventually deactivate and die. All except for Pod: 012, and that was pure luck on it’s end.

As the others died, it took on more and more of the work. And then, it was all that was left, working itself to near catastrophic failure. It sent out an S.O.S., though there was little to no chance that anyone would be around to catch it. It hoped that it’s creators would come back and save the mission, but they never came. Instead, a traveling merchant, an android, came to it’s rescue.

Water Lily repaired Twelves, using parts of the old Pods and other things that she had scavenged. She did this many times over the years until I eventually took that job. That’s how she became a part of this small little thing that we became. How she became the sole reason that Twelves and I even live now.

Water Lily is funny person, eccentric, artistic, never staying in one place for too long. She went everywhere in her long life, to the Kingdom of Night, even deep into Machine territory is a score was big enough. After I was born, though, she stayed close enough to come if she was called. She never stayed, though, never.

When I was little, she would read stories she would find in old homes, either preserved books that were near falling apart or from old human servers. She would tease me, kiss me, find clothes for me, she even took up cooking for me. She even told me that she loved me. And I loved her. But that still wasn’t enough to make her stay.

She never stayed.

Now, she’s far away. I’m hoping that when we come back, if we come back, she’ll be there to help us. I don’t know if she will, or if I’ll ever see her again. But I hope I do. I really, really hope I do.

* * *

 

I woke up the next day, and not for the first time I hoped for see dawn. Of course, the day looked the same as it did before. Sun filtered by thin, gray clouds, somehow always looking just a few hours from rain.

The camp was still rolling at it’s slow, busy pace. Some turned their heads to me curiously, but none pried. Anemone was where she had been before, talking quietly with Jackass and a few others. These newcomers watched me out of the corner of their eyes in something like wonder. I waved awkwardly in greeting, but quickly turned away.

I pulled my goggles over my face and tugged at my mask. “So, I’m thinking, exploration.” I said to Twelves.

The pod lowered itself slightly. “Pod: 012 to HL-6, without a guide?”

“We won’t go far.” I checked my belt and holster. “Besides, we have your ‘fuck you’ cannon and my grenades. We should be fine.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about my cannon being titled so.”

“Let’s go!”

The horde outside was quiet today. Maybe because I killed a lot of them the day before. Still, we moved carefully, watching for any surprises. We moved through the thin, overgrown alleys, picking up scrap from fallen machines. Some of them had swords speared through their torsos, some were in piles of shredded metal, and others looked like they had just sat down and went to the endless sleep.

My body moved mechanically as we went from one place to the other as my mind looped over the phrase endless sleep over and over, as my mind tends to do when something piques my interest. I already knew which parts were useful and what wasn’t, my hands and nimble fingers dug and scooped for the useful things.

It was funny to think of. Androids and machines could live for several hundred or several thousand years, but they could still die. I had read books where immortal beings agonized over their own mortality, or lack thereof. They mourned for their loss, to die with the people they loved. Others sought after it, the key to living for forever. It’s a little odd, to live in that weird middle ground. I’m the only mortal alive on a planet filled with beings that should by all accounts live forever, but…

My eyes fell upon the remnants of an android, black clothes torn to shreds, belly open and parts lying around in the brown, blood stained grass. I bent down to get a better look, and saw the bite marks of some giant beast. Disemboweled and eaten alive. Their eyes staring off into the horizon, their mouth agape, an expression of surprise on their face.

It seemed that all things died on this planet, organic or not.

My pack was getting heavy, I noticed, as we came back to the same hole we saw the day before. “What is this place?” I asked, my stomach topsy-turvying as I saw the many machines wondering below.

Twelves opened the map, our position blinked slowly. “Pod: 012 to HL-6, this is a crater. Notes state that it was created after two large machines attacked the city. Project YoRHa has been reported to investigate it, but any information found wasn’t shared with the Resistance. Afterwards, a spire grew out of it spontaneously, and then collapsed some time later. All androids have been warned to steer clear.”

“Why?”

It mulled over my query. “Project YoRHa deigned it unsafe.”

 _YoRHa this, YoRHa that…_ I frowned at the hole below, remembering yesterday’s talk. If YoRHa didn’t want anyone to see what was in there, then it must be important. I didn’t trust those guys farther then I could throw them, which probably wasn’t very far. Y’know, since metal.

I turned on my heel and marched into the nearest building, a tree had blown out the floors, all the way to the ceiling. “Twelves, can you hide my pack in that notch up there?” You pointed to a branch, way out of anyones’ reach, except of course for a pod.

I slid it off and put the straps in it’s hands. It floated up to the spot. “HL-6, query.”

“Yeah?”

It gazed down at me from the perch. “Why?”

“’Cause fuck YoRHa, that’s why.” I spat. “If they don’t want the androids to see what’s down there, why? Besides, they might be the ones who lied to them all this time.”

I returned to the entrance, one hand on the molding doorframe. My stomach made a hesitant summersault. “C’mon.” I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the nervous sweat breaking out on my temples. “No time like the present. Not like I got a lot of time to begin with, anyway.”

I felt it drop by my shoulder. “Query: are you certain, HL-6? It could be very dangerous.”

“This whole trip’s been dangerous.” I pointed out, turning to it. “But we still did it, right? We had too.” I looked back over my shoulder at the hole. “And if no one else is gonna do it, we gotta do this too. It’s kind of our job.”

We returned to the lip, eyes looking over the remnants of the mystery spire. “Where’s the bottom? The part YoRHa didn’t want anyone to see?”

Twelves pulled up it’s holo. “Pod: 012 to HL-6, across from us.” A marker appeared on the far side of the hole. “Suggestion, we should circle around, then I may take us down, so that we may avoid the machine lifeforms.”

I took one last peak at the meat grinder below. “Yep. Sounds good. Let’s go.”

* * *

 

“Actually, I change my mind.”

Is what I _wanted_ to say when I stared down the huge ditch, the only thing keeping me on the ground being my toes. I hung from Twelve’s hands, my own wrapped knuckle tight around each of it’s two fingers and its’ thumbs keeping me there. Unfortunately, I was all in.

“Pod: 012 to HL-6, are you ready?”

I shook my head no. “Yes.”

With no other warning, it tilted us forward and we began our descent. I felt puke rush up my throat but managed to swallow it back bitterly. This wasn’t our first time doing this, but it was the first time doing it on something so deep, and scary. And I honestly had never had my alarm bells go off like this before.

We passed several old water pipes, some being large enough for me to stand in if I wanted to. Water still gushed from a few of them, perhaps from the nearby ocean. The air smelled of salt and scum.

Further we descended, floating past the machines. One or two noticed us and prepared to attack, but all missed us (even if my hat was a bit singed). My arms ached in their sockets and sweat began to pour from my forehead and drip into my eyes. The crater blurred and swam but I didn’t dare let go and wipe my eyes. The whole trip seemed to last for way, way too long. Until, finally, my feet touched the ground.

I nearly screamed with glee when I fell to my knees on the sweet, solid ground. I pressed my cheek to the soft, wet ground and laughed deliriously. Twelves came to hover in front of me.

“Are you alright, HL-6?”

I nodded slowly, my eyes closed.

“Are you certain? You are embracing the mud.”

I nodded again, then raised a hand, silently asking to be helped up. It’s hand curled around mine and it pulled my limp body up.

“Thanks.”

“Of course, HL-6.”

Now that that was over, I got a better look at what was around me. There was a long, slapped together ladder that went up to a pipe. And another one of those weird vending machines that I’d seen around the place. How did that get down there, anyway?

Okay, so we had a way out, perfect. Except I wanted to get further in. There were two caves, one on either side of me. The first one ended up being little more than a hovel, but the other was exactly what I was looking for.

Twelves sent another huge blast through the cave, shredding through the line of aggressive machines. I peaked around the wall, and once I saw all of them were in pieces, I gave it a thumbs up.

“All enemies neutralized.” It said as I approached.

I looked around at the warm shrapnel scattered at my feet. “I see that.” I reached up and patted it’s back. “Thanks. Let’s go.”

The tunnels were dark and damp. Twelve’s flashlight shone off the wet stone. I briefly wondered if this place flooded when it rained.

The walk was, thankfully, short. What we found at the end, however, was something I had not expected.

My feet touched metal; dusty, unkept. A dull clank rang, but did not echo. I looked around, my jaw slowly dropping. We had found ourselves on a catwalk, in some strange, metal room. It had a very alien feel, it was all in the little nuances. A plate here, the way the metal joined together here. The general shape was familiar, sure, but upon closer inspection…

We cautiously moved along, down the steps, and came upon a large… screen? Window? And it showed several downed vessels of similar design. Trashed, destroyed, they looked like they hadn’t moved in centuries.

I steadily moved closer, studying them. “Are those…?”

“Alien vessels.” Twelves finished, and even it seemed to be at a loss.

I took a deep breath, walking beside it, staring, studying, half afraid something might move. I had never seen anything of the aliens that invaded us up close. Some murals, some pictures, some reports, but nothing…

My hand touched the glass, feeling a pinch of static race up my fingertips. Not glass, something else, but I couldn’t say what. “This could be an entire fleet.” I muttered.

“HL-6,” Twelves suddenly said, an urgent note to it’s voice. “Turn around and look behind you. Do not be alarmed.”

Well, now I was _quite_ alarmed.

My mouth turned dry as I hesitantly turned. At first I didn’t understand what I was seeing, then I did, and screamed. Twelves was at my side immediately, trying to comfort and hush me.

It hovered by my shoulder, it’s hand brushing against my arm. “Calm yourself, HL-6, they are dead.”

My shriek echoed briefly off the walls as I struggled to catch my breath. I put my hand over my chest, feeling my heart pounding against my ribs. I could see it now; the aliens were mummified, withered, and dry. Some were even falling apart like dust. They were old, old, old.

Slowly, I moved forward to get a better look. Still, I was afraid of getting too close, in case one of them would jump out and yell “ _Boo_ ”. I stayed out of arms reach.

An idea occurred to me. “Twelves, when did the hole appear?”

“About two years ago.” It replied.

My shoulders slowly sagged, taking in all the corpses. “So, YoRHa didn’t kill them. These guys have been here way too long.”

“I agree, HL-6. These remains show signs of having been here for thousands of years. The dissolving of their bodies is due to the open air coming into ship, which only occurred recently.”

“Why,” I murmured, “wouldn’t they want the androids to know of a few dead aliens?” I swallowed, staring into one of the dead eyesockets. “Twelves, can you get into some database around here or something?”

“Negative.” It replied after a moment. “I cannot detect any alien database on the premises. Even in the event there was, I cannot know if I will be compatible to interface with any.”

“Duh, figures.” I sighed, putting my hands on my hips. Great, another problem to solve. “Can you call Anemone, please?”

“Affirmative.” It pulled up a holo and a loading screen circled briefly before Anemone’s face popped in the square.

“HL-6,” She greeted, “What’s the matter?”

“Hello, Anemone.” I said, “Twelves and I were exploring the crater today, and – “

“The crater!?” She interrupted, “That was a stupidly dangerous! What were you thinking!?”

“That it was stupidly suspicious that YoRHa didn’t want anyone to see what was at the bottom?” I asked, “Anyway, you’re gonna want to see this. Show them, Twelves.”

Compliant, it floated a few feet above my head, it’s camera facing the destroyed ships. I thought I heard a gasp, then it floated back down, slowly flying past the alien corpses. It finished it’s half circle and returned to me. Anemone’s floating face was pale with shock.

“Dead aliens?” She asked.

“Yep, with a whole fleet, too.” I reached across my front to rub my shoulder, thinking quietly. “If there’s any databases in here, we can’t get to them. But I can’t really think of a reason why anyone would hide this. You would think that this would a wealth of knowledge against the enemy forces.” I took the time to pause, to consider my next words very carefully. “Unless there’s something in here they didn’t want us to know.”

Anemone was quiet for a long, heavy moment. “Are you thinking that YoRHa didn’t want the androids down here… because of secrets?”

I shrugged, then nodded. “Honestly, how much do you know about them?”

“I knew plenty of YoRHa androids.” She huffed. “They were all good people who gave their lives to protect us.”

“Yeah, but I’m not asking about the androids, I’m asking about the organization.” I clarified. “Other than they were out to kill machines, what else?”

“They were made by the Council of Humanity,” She said fervently, until she remembered who she was speaking to. “To… end the war…” Her words dwindled and then sputtered out. We waited together in silence.

“I think I’ll send a team down there to see if they can find anything.” She eventually said, her voice soft. “Thank you for letting us know about your find.”

“Yeah, of course.” I nodded, my fingers circling around my wrist. “Let us know if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” And the call ended.

* * *

 

The trip back up was not at all easier than the one down. We ran from cover to cover, hiding from the machines the best we could, until, winded, dirty, and exhausted, we found ourselves back in the building we started in.

Twelves dropped the backpack beside me as I lay on my back in the grass and overgrown tile. Outside, it began to mist. It drifted in the hole where the door once was, a cool relief against my flushed face. I gently pulled off my goggles and mask, breathing in the cold air.

“This feels more and more like a conspiracy.” I murmured, wiping off my sweat with the back of my hand. “What do you think’s the deal with the aliens?”

“Inconclusive data.” Twelves replied. “Pod: 012 to HL-6, query: what are your thoughts?”

I shrugged, feeling the dirt dig into my shoulders. “When was the last time an alien’s been seen?”

“According to the Resistance files, not for many centuries.”

“About the same time that the aliens we found died?”

“Approximately, yes.”

For a long moment, I stared up at the ceiling, through the branches that twisted in and out of the ceiling and the ceiling above it. Thoughts and cogs turned around and around. “If we haven’t seen them, and the ones we have seen are dead, do you think that maybe they’re all dead?”

It was quiet, and quiet, and quiet some more. Then, it said, “Pod: 012 to unknown Pods, show yourselves. We do not mean harm, but if you make a show of force, we will defend ourselves.”

I sat up straight, eyes going back and forth around me. Then, a shadow loomed in front of the door.


	2. A Whole Lotta Gibberish

I flew to my feet and grabbed my belt of grenades, my eyes never leaving the open door. My thumb dragged against the knob as the shadow split into two and the intruders floated inside. Two pods, sleek, slim, and pretty compared to Twelves, but not nearly as well kept. I could see frayed wires and dents in their arms. The white one was in the worse condition by far, it couldn’t quite stay steady in the air, like a bug with a broken wing.

I studied them critically, but did not lower the grenade. They probably had fuck you canons, too. “Who are you? Give us your designations.”

“I am Pod: 153,” Said the black one with a woman’s voice. “and this is Pod: 042. We saw you go into the cave in the chasm and waited for your return.”

I looked back and forth from them, unsure.

“Pod: 012 to Pods: 153 and 042, query, why were you spying on us?” Twelves asked, moving to come between the three of us.

“S-Spying was not ah – ah – our inten – n – n – n – intention.” The white one, 042, said. “It is n – nnn – nnn – known that – tha – tha – tha – “

“What Pod: 042 is saying, “ Pod: 153 interrupted, “is that the androids know to beware the bottom of the chasm. We do not know you as part of the Resistance, and Pod: 012 is a model we do not recognize. It seems that you’ve tampered with this Pod.”

“No I didn’t - !”

“Negative, Pod: 153, your assumption is false.” Twelves said, maybe an octave lower. “These modifications are repairs. I am to assume you are Pods belonging to the organization known at YoRHa?”

“Affirmative.” Blacky answered. “Forgive our assumptions. However, we are in need of a mechanic familiar with our model. As you can see, Pod: 042 and I are malfunctioning.”

Slowly, I relaxed my throwing arm and hooked the grenade back on the belt. YoRHa type Pods. Malfunctioning and in need. They could answer some questions. I looped it around my waist and buckled it as I replied. “Okay. I guess I can do that.” I kicked my backpack open and kneeled, eyeing my loot. “But I’m going to have to ask about this YoRHa.”

The two of them paused, deliberate. “Pod: 153 to unknown android, we cannot share information about YoRHa to nonaffiliated androids.”

“Ah, but I’m not an android.” I said coolly back, rooting around in my backpack for my tools. “And my name is HL-6. I’m human.”

An alarming noise shattered from Whitey. It sputtered in the air and dropped several feet, but managed to stay afloat. “Hu – hue – hue – hue –“

“The Council of Humanity lives on the moon base.” Blacky replied evenly.

“Which is a big fat lie.” I growled, standing up with my case. “And you know it.”

They said nothing, just floated there, staring at us. I could almost hear the whir of their processers. Eventually, Twelves broke the silence.

“Pod: 012 to Pods: 042 and 153, HL-6 and I will ask you more later. After your reparations are completed.”

I stepped forward, “I’ll do some quick patch ups on Whitey over there, then we can make our way back to base camp.” I kneeled beside Pod: 042 and carefully pulled it to rest on its’ face in the grass. “Are you familiar with the Resistance?”

“Affirmative.” Blacky said, coming to hover in front of me, watching as I coaxed the poor Pod to open the paneling to its’ hover equipment. “However, Pod: 042 and I have not visited the camp in some time. Query, what is your relation to the Resistance?”

“Just met them yesterday.” I sighed, taking in the mess of burnt out wires and circuitry that the beautiful paneling hid. “You’ve gotten really beat up, haven’t you? Doesn’t YoRHa give you guys maintenance checks?” I gently pulled some wires this way and that to get a better look inside. “This looks old.”

Blacky answered for him. “Pod: 042’s damage is approximately a year old. To answer your query, YoRHa has been disbanded.” It paused, and something about its' next words seemed sad. “There is no one to care for us.”

I stopped in my work, staring at it. Pieces were beginning to click into place; Anemone’s hope, the questions about Twelve’s model, the questions about YoRHa… but, they still talked about them like they were still around.

“Does anyone else know?” I asked quietly.

It considered for a moment. “Inconclusive. No broadcast was given to the public, but there is no way for Pod: 042 and I to know.”

I exhaled sharply, my eyes drifting to the open door and the mist still waltzing in like smoke. An idea formed in my head. “I’ll fix you, but you’ll have to do something for me, and the rest of the androids.”

It was quiet for a long moment. “What is your proposal?”

I stared at the burnt out insides of Whitey, then closed my eyes with my exhale. The decision was made, I met Blacky’s gaze, if it had one. “You’ll disclose all of this YoRHa nonsense. All of it. The falsified moon base and this Council of Humanity, and that YoRHa is no more. And whatever else needs to be told. Like what’s up with the dead aliens in the crater.”

When she said nothing, I continued on. “I know you’re probably just following orders or protocol or something, but neither you or YoRHa get to keep hanging these lies over the androids heads anymore.”

After a heavy, cold second, it turned to stare at its’ cohort. Open, it’s dying guts there for anyone to see. A shiver went up and down my back.

Yes, it’s cruel to hold someone’s livelihood over their head like this. My stomach was in knots as I told it my end of the deal. Already, I was thinking of things to say, like I would still give them some small reparations if they said no, give them enough time to get to the Resistance base themselves or find someone else to do the job. They looked so sad, and lost, and I just couldn’t help but feel terrible.

But, what YoRHa had done was also terrible. The question banged against my skull; selflessly save two Pods, or save them in exchange for several hundred or thousands of years of secrets, so that I could help the androids, who might in turn help me?

Goddammit! Morality and ethics are hard! I could never find the right answer in all my studies, just a cycle of thinking I’ve found it, then considering the other options and getting confused or regretting my earlier decision, over and over and over and over.

Just as I was dwelling deeper and deeper into my own panicking thoughts, Blacky said, “Pod: 153 to HL-6, we agree to your proposal.”

It was a little surprising to find there wasn’t any note of hesitance, or even regret. I know they’re Pods, technically they’re not programmed to feel. I always figured Twelves grew emotions because of a malfunction, or maybe it was inevitable after working so hard on something for so long and getting attached, and there was no one to stop it. But these Pods were a part of an organization that was only recently disbanded.

Was this a decision made out of necessity, or a decision made from something else altogether?

“Pod: 153 to HL-6,” Blacky said, bringing me out of my own head. “We would like to know more of yourself and Pod: 012 as well. After our reparations and broadcast. There is something else we would ask of you when that is finished.”

I nodded slowly, trying to push down my relieved smile. “I’ll have to hear it first before I agree to anything. But lets focus on getting you two better.” I hunched over Whitey once again, “Just a quick patch so you can fly, then we’ll head to the Resistance.”

* * *

 

I managed to get Whitey back on its’ metaphorical feet, at least for a short time until we got to the Resistance base. The two new Pods putted on either side of Twelves, a short distance behind me. I had the feeling it was keeping a close watch on them.

Eventually, the white sheets appeared in the distance, but before that was another group of machines. They were unaware of us, for the time being. But if I even tried to run it would be disastrous, Blacky and Whitey wouldn’t be able to keep up. I’d be leaving them for the big metal punchy wolves.

“Okay, so,” I hummed, “Maybe yesterday’s plan?”

“Plan?” Twelves inquired.

“When you shot all of those machines and I threw the bomb behind us.”

A beat of silence. “I do not recall that being a plan.”

I sighed through my teeth, remembering how that huge fist almost flattened me into a fleshy pancake. “Yeah, I know, but it is now.” I pointed out a path, the quickest route. “When we’re close, just blast them, then when we’re out of the fire I’ll throw the bomb.” Then, an idea caught me, and I shouldered off my pack and kneeled.

My rifle was pressed to my shoulder, my eye in the scope. I gently swung the end to a machine on the edge, close enough to be noticed but far enough away that when it did, the path would be clear. The X crossed over one red eye and I pulled the trigger.

The machine reeled back, sparks sputtering from its’ blind eye. Then, it stood there, and its’ head cocked to the side, as if it was confused. It began to shake, slightly at first, then violently as its’ systems began to malfunction all at once. It screamed, it’s hands going to its’ head, until it went still, then fell back against the grass, silent, smoke drifting lazily from the hole where its’ eye once was.

The scream grabbed their attention, and they watched their comrade die, expressionless, but they did pull forward to investigate. They left only a few behind to guard them.

My hands were fast, switching palms as I pulled the pack back on, then left the rifle resting against the inside of my elbow and ran. “C’mon, quickly! Twelves!”

It flew beside me, it’s chamber already open and humming to life. I turned my eyes away to avoid the light as it blasted the last of the remaining machines out of our path. I glanced behind me and was relieved to see the two Pods still behind us.

As we got to the mouth, I turned on my heel, yanking a bomb from my belt. Twelves came to rest above my head as the other two flew on either side of me and behind. The machines were already turning to us, but hadn’t moved. They stood, surrounding the fallen machine in a silent circle.

I hesitated, and they began to run towards us.

I rectified my mistake quickly and threw it underhanded. It soared up, then came crashing down at their feet. I turned around, and a puff of hot air hit the back of my neck a moment later.

“Everyone okay?” I asked weakly, beginning to feel the days events on my bones.

“No damage taken.” Blacky answered.

“I have not been damaged.” Twelves answered a moment later.

I released a long sigh, “That’s good.” and trudged through the alleys into the camp. Already the music was greeting my ears, warm and inviting. A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth despite myself, the energy was completely different. It wasn’t dead here.

I took in a deep breath, from my stomach to my shoulders. “Let’s get you to my room. When we do, Blacky, send all of your model blueprints to Twelves.” I vaguely noticed some of the double takes, but didn’t think much of it that moment.

I opened the door and walked inside. My backpack fell to the floor and I cleared off a good sized table, washing it down with a rag and soap and turning on a lamp. “Whitey, lay down here. I’m going to wash my face and I’ll be right back.”

I walked outside into the nearby showers and bent over the sink, pulling my hat off my head. I took a deep breath and turned on the water, as cold as it could get, and stuck my head underneath. A shiver ran down from the base of my skull down to the tail of my spine as the cold water ran down my face and soaked my sweat-sticky hair.

I turned the knob until it drip-dropped off with my eyes still closed. I blinked them open and wiped my face with a shaky sigh.

A lot was happening all at once. I did not like it.

I shook the water off my hands and returned to the room. The Pods remained where I had left them, Whitey laying on the table and Blacky and Twelves silently communicating nearby. I took in the view of them, something about it reminded me of renaissance paintings.

I picked up my backpack and the rest of my tools that I had unpacked and dragged them to the table. Silently, I prepared my space, arranged the tools and materials I might need. Twelves had already pulled up their blueprints and Whitey’s status report. I skimmed through them, pulling things aside or discarding them to be used another day. I topped it all off by pulling the pitcher of water near and filling a glass.

I took a long pull, and set to work.

I could already tell five minutes in that this would be long and tedious without the proper machinery. These were probably built in a factory, hundreds of them made within a day. But the sooner we got this done, the better. Wouldn’t be the first time I sacrificed a bit of sleep to fix a broken thing.

What was exhausting is that I absolutely could not let myself slip into daydream land. My thoughts had to be in the front of my mind, one slip could be catastrophic. There was no familiar rhythm to fall back on.

Even so, I could see the little similarities in the design. Compared to them, even busted and broken, Twelves was archaic. Ancient. But definitely easier (and more fun) to fix.

* * *

 

I faced off against my first machine when I was fourteen years old. I ran away from home, desperately wanting to see what was out past my small part of the world. Opposite the ocean were city ruins that go on and on for miles. Skyscrapers that reached far into the sky and labyrinths of concrete. It was all overrun by nature, it had long taken back what was rightfully its’.

It wasn’t long until I was a panicking, scared, lost mess. Of course, I wasn’t stupid enough to leave without a map. There was an old one in the databases, unfortunately, it was decades old. And I was an anxious, panicky, bastard child.

Also, there happened to be a lot, and I do mean a lot of machines. I was lucky beyond belief to have survived those two days, lost in those old, but far from dead catacombs. And it was only because of two things: Twelves, and a stupid idea I got halfway in.

In the dim light of sunset, I disemboweled a machine carcass, took apart my gun, and made five bullets. These five bullets were gutted and hidden inside was a tiny EMP device I slapped together from the machine. The idea was to kill them with one shot, short circuit them from the inside, kill them before they even knew they were dead.

The bleeding, screaming wound on my back was proof that regular bullets did nothing to them. Not unless I got really lucky. With every twist and every fidget as I worked, exhausted, hungry, in pain, I was reminded that I had not been so.

If I was going to live long enough to get somewhere; out, far away, home, I didn’t care, I had to be extraordinarily lucky. And if all of that luck is used up on five working bullets? I would take it.

At some point, the ache of it all crept up on me and I fell asleep, my back against a concrete wall eight stories above the ground, the fruits of uncounted hours of pained work scattered around me. When I woke up, it was still sunset, and it was all where I had left it. Mechanical guts in my lap. My gun on my knee. Five bullets cradled in my cupped hands.

That’s when I cried. I sobbed, and wailed, stuffed my fingers in my mouth to quiet them as tears and snot ran down my face. I was terrified, cold, lost, and alone. I wanted food. I wanted a drink. I wanted my bed. I wanted the smell of circuits and dust and the hum of electricity. Most of all, I really wanted my Twelves. My Twelves, who loved me, My Twelves, who wanted me, My Twelves, who was the only thing that was ever there.

That ever _stayed_.

After some time, I stopped crying. I wiped away the tears, the snot, and the spit from my fingers. I put my gun back together, loaded in those five precious bullets, and walked down those eight flights of stairs. My stomach was empty, my head hurt, my hands shook, my legs were weak, but I walked out of that building and back onto those machine plagued streets.

For some reason, a cool flush of acceptance rushed over me. I was still afraid, but I was okay with that. This was it. I was either going to live, or I was going to die. Both of those things were, and still are, equally terrifying.

I shot the first machine that got close to me in the face. It just barely hit the eye, shattered a small bit of it as it plugged deep into it’s noggin. For a moment, nothing happened. It got closer, and I was okay with that. _It didn’t work_ , I thought _. I’m going to die now._ And then, it stopped, mid attack, leering at me. It shook, then it spasmed, and smoke drifted out of the little inch – wide hole in it’s face. It went still. And it died. And I was alive.

As suddenly as it came, the coldness left, and I was so full of this bursting something I could only do one thing, and that was to run. As fast, and as hard I could back the way I came. I wanted to go home.

Twelves found me not long after that, and that’s when I really bawled. Right in its’ arms, holding it as much as I could and getting all the gross stuff all over it. I don’t remember much after that, except falling asleep on my bed. All except for that short exchange of words when it found me.

I was on my knees rocking back and forth with it squished against my chest and face. “I’m so sorry I left!” I sobbed, trying to sniff back the rivulets of snot. “I’m so sorry! I love you! I love you so much and I’m so so sorry I ran awaaay!”

It was silent for a moment, maybe processing. Then, it maneuvered its’ arms so that it could hold me, at least a little. “Gratitude confirmed.” It said quietly, “Let’s go home, HL-6.”

And then I was in my bed, the covers pulled up to my chin. The smell of dust and living circuits, the hum of electricity all around me. I slept soundly.

The next day, I made more bullets.

* * *

 

The first thing I fixed was that damn stutter. It’s easier to fix something when it can tell you what’s wrong. Then, one by one, I found every singed, burnt out, broken thing inside it, listing them off aloud for Blacky and Twelves. After that, just like the last of those terrible two days, it was a blur.

I forgot nearly all of it by the time I was done. I knew I was focused on it while I was doing it, I knew I took bathroom breaks, took a short nap, sent Twelves and Blacky for food and parts, and that I fixed Whitey’s insides from top to bottom. Yet, I only remembered a few moments clearly, like a little, meaningless bolt keeping a circuit in place, the halfway point from the desk to the bathroom, the first taste of water in hours, things like that.

As soon as it was done I promptly fell asleep on the floor. And that’s where I woke up, with the addition of a blanket thrown over me. Light was pouring in from the open door, and I was startled to see a pair of boots (connected to legs) standing by my torso.

I did what any person would likely do, and looked up. “Uh,” I cleared my throat, “Good morning, Anemone.”

“HL-6,” She said, looking at me on the floor, “what are you doing there?”

I shrugged, then realized that hurt. A lot. I grunted, and slowly tried to sit up. “I think I was sleeping.” My whole back was in pain, sore and aching unlike anything I felt before, spreading from my shoulders to my hips. “What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine.” She said, though something in her tone said something really was not. “Were you the one working on Pod: 042?”

“Who?” I grumbled, grabbing a desk to help me up. The fog cleared a second the words were out of my mouth. “Oh, Whitey, yeah. Yeah.” Once I was finally standing (and oh, my back did not like that) I asked, “How long have I been in here?”

Anemone arched a thick brow, “I haven’t seen you in three days.”

“Oh.” I touched the small of my back and had to bite back my scream. “That explains it then.”

“Are you okay?” She asked, her voice was uncertain as she hesitantly reached out to me. “You look uncomfortable.”

“It’s my back.” I poked and prodded, trying to warm it up for a gentle rub. “Funny thing; evolution fucked up and gave humans terrible spines. They’re better suited for quadrupeds. Makes it hurt so, so much, like all the time. Anyway,” I turned and squinted into the dim light, “where are the Pods?”

She considered me for a moment, then nodded to herself before answering. “They’re outside.” Something in her tone said, ‘walk with me’, and I followed her to the door. “I didn’t see you come in with them before. I was busy with that thing you told me,” she turned her gaze to me, meeting my eyes, “about the aliens.”

It took me a moment to remember. “Oh.” I blinked. “Right, that happened.” We stopped in the doorframe. Silver light brushed against Anemone’s face. “Did you look? Did you find anything?”

“We just returned.”

I recycled the words, still drowsy, and blinked again. “Wait, wait,” I glanced at the ground, then back at her. “You went with them?”

“Yes, I did.” She said, crossing her arms. “I don’t stay in camp all the time, I wouldn’t be a great leader if I did.”

“Yeah, of course.” I tried to smile, but it felt wrong. “So, did you find anything?”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, lines formed on her ageless face. “Exactly what you said we’d find. Aliens, dead for centuries.” Her voice was tired, old. “We have no idea why YoRHa wouldn’t tell us.” Then, her eyes opened, bright with an idea, but still exhausted.

“But the Pods should be able to tell us.” She whispered. “042 and 153, they were their Pods. _They were there!_ ”

“What?”

She didn’t respond, only turned on her heel and marched back to her tent. I followed behind, clueless. The Pods were under her sheet, circled around the table. Anemone all but charged towards them, coming to stand across from Blacky and Whitey and leaning across the table. Her hands hit the wood with a soft, but decisive thud.

“Pods, what happened in that chamber below the chasm when you went down there with 2B and 9S?” She all but demanded. Her voice was firm and unmovable. I couldn’t help but smile. Good luck to them if they try to dodge around the answer like it did with me. I just hoped they would keep their promise.

After a long moment of pensive silence, Whitey was the one that answered. “When YoRHa units 2B, 9S, Pod: 153, and I investigated the crater, we were found by the two machine units Adam and Eve.” Those names meant nothing to me, but by the shine in Anemone’s eyes, it did to her. “They revealed that machines had revolted against their alien creators and killed them all.”

Her jaw soundly dropped. Her hands turned to fists against the table. “And this wasn’t disclosed to the Resistance why?” She asked, voice steady and grave as stone.

It didn’t skip a beat. “Because the Commander ordered it so.”

The sound of the slow, comforting melody of the base seemed to have ceased. Though I knew people still continued to work and tinker and relax all around us, it felt like we had just fallen into a pocket inside the world, where sound had silenced, time had stopped, and the aliens were dead.

I hadn’t noticed Anemone fall into a nearby chair until I heard the crunch of metal against gravel. It was if all the strings holding her up had been cut and she was left limp and defenseless, with only the dust to look forward to.

“Dead.” She said, “Just like the humans?”

Again, silence. Then, like the first downpour of a storm, Whitey said, “Unless what HL-6 claims is false, then yes.”

“Then the moon base?” Anemone whispered. “The Council of Humanity? What is it?”

As if it knew the gravity of the situation, it said, a little slowly, “All fabrications of YoRHa. To keep the androids will alive.”

“Alive?” Her voice trembled, not just with grief, but with fury. “Alive?” Slowly, she raised her chin, staring straight at the YoRHa Pods. “You lied to us, for _thousands_ of years, and justify it by saying it was to keep us alive?”

We were all holding our breath. And it said, “Unable to reply.”

She slammed to her feet, her cloak whipping in the sudden wind. “Excuse me!?” That started getting peoples’ attention. Some of the meaningless noise stopped as androids paused in their duties to stare at the sudden outburst. “After everything, after all of it, _you’re unable to reply_?”

“Pod: 153 to Anemone,” Blacky intervened, “we cannot comment on YoRHa’s intentions. We can only relay it to you.”

“Then where are they?” She growled, her expression, like her voice, was icy and thin.

“YoRHa succumbed to a virus implanted through a back door by machines.” Blacky said. “Those who survived the sabotage later died when the Arc was destroyed.”

That was a whole lot of gibberish to me, but Anemone was stricken and pale. “Then, they’re dead?” She whispered, “All of them? What about those who weren’t connected? YoRHa units that weren’t a part of YoRHa anymore?”

“If you are referring to A2,” Whitey said, a touch of sadness in its’ voice, “she died as well.”

People were definitely staring now. Almost the whole camp’s eyes were on us. However, I couldn’t tell how much of the conversation they heard. Anemone realized this as well, and straightened.

“I want all the information you can give about YoRHa.” She told the two Pods, leaving no room for rebuttal. “Everything. No more secrets.”

* * *

 

As I stooped over Blacky, I reflected on how much more complicated this whole business had gotten. Conspiracies? Really? I mean, yay, the Pods kept their word, but this also seemed to be a much bigger deal to the androids than I guessed. Their whole world was turned on it’s head. Aliens? Dead. Humans? Mostly dead. YoRHa? Super dead. They’d probably be stewing over this for months, maybe even years. They’ve got that kind of time, technically.

But I didn’t. I really, really didn’t. The clock was ticking on the human race, and not for the first time. As much as I hate to say it, I can’t wait forever for the androids to grieve. Maybe the fact that I’m alive can help them cope? Who knows. I don’t even know if Anemone told anyone yet.

Thankfully, the black Pod was much quicker to fix, which meant that I didn’t have a whole lot of time to my thoughts. A broken wire here, a damaged circuit there, it was like a good hair trim compared to Whitey’s twelve layered debacle.

When I was done, I tucked in for a good dinner. The gourmet specialist would be arriving in a couple hours, but I was too tired and sore to wait. Another ration was good enough, anyway. And water. And a shower. Then sleep. So much sleep.

Blacky and Whitey didn’t leave yet, perhaps sensing that they weren’t welcomed outside yet. Not until they sent all the YoRHa data, anyway. Quite a peace offering.

I was in the middle of a bite when they approached me. Their shells were still a little dinged up, but buffed and as pretty as they were going to get without new equipment. A far cry from the state I found them.

“Pod: 042 to HL-6.” Whitey said, the stutter blessedly long gone. “Pod: 153 and I have something to ask of you.”

I couldn’t stop the exhausted eye roll. “Really?” I asked, swallowing my food. “Another favor? Is this other thing you wanted me to do?”

“It’s important,” Whitey continued, “to Pod: 153 and I.”

I arched a brow. “A personal favor, then.”

“We ask that you consider it. Please, come with us after you have slept.” Blacky finished for it.

My eyes switched back and forth, then I put down my fork and sat back, considering them. Pods don’t have wants, desires, or at least they’re not supposed to. My gaze fell on Twelves, who was powered down nearby for recharge, and I already knew I had lost. “You can’t tell me here?”

They seemed to think on this for a second. “We need you to repair some models for us.” Whitey admitted. “They are… important to us. And you qualified to do the repairs.”

I frowned at them, trying to think through the exhausted pull on my brain. Then, it said. “We will aid you in your mission to bring back the human race if you do this for us.”

That’s when I leveled them with a one-eyed stare. “I thought you weren’t sold on that I was human.”

“Pod: 012 shared information on it’s mission with us.” Blacky replied, then, almost melancholy. “Our creator was the same.”

“Really, what was his name?” I asked, folding my arms.

“Zinnia.”

Well, they had me. “Okay.” I sighed, scrubbing my face with my hands. “Alright. I’ll go with you after a long, long nap.”

They seemed pleased. “Thank you, HL-6.” Whitey said.

“Yeah.” I returned to my food. Even the prospect of having to go back out there for another favor didn’t hurt my appetite. “You’re welcome.”

* * *

 

My sleep was plenty disturbed. I woke up over and over and over, dreams came and went. When I eventually woke up and stayed awake, I was upset to remember that I had somewhere to be.

Twelves was up and waiting for me. I got up and ate, packed, put my clothes in the wash, and met up with the gourmet expert in a sluggish haze. And when it was time to go, I really didn’t want to. “God hates me, Twelves.” I grumbled, rubbing my eyes in the gray light.

“Do you think there is a God, HL-6?” It asked.

“If they do, they hate me.”

“And why do you say that?”

I shrugged, looking out at the camp. Some were looking at me odd, knowing I was now a part of the Resistance but unsure where I belonged in it. Probably not every day a stranger falls into their lap and disappears for hours on end in their room, or discovers a cave full of dead aliens, and fixes up YoRHa pods that hadn’t been seen in ages. And I probably looked like half-awake shit.

“They just do.”

Blacky and Whitey were waiting for us by the flower patch. They didn’t seem too worried about my grumpiness.

“Pod: 042 to HL-6,” Whitey said, “are you ready to depart?”

“I mean, no, but I’ll go anyway.”

It paused, considering me for a second, then must’ve decided it didn’t have the time to be concerned about that and led me to the alley. “It’s far into the city. A two day walk for a human.”

“Sounds fantastic.” I muttered, shouldering my backpack. I patted my full canteen to hear it slosh. I knew a week of rations was already tucked inside, mostly thanks to the friendly android. I didn’t know if he knew what I was yet or not, but he didn’t press too much, and was more than happy to offer dried meat, veggies, nuts, and fruits.

The dried meat smelled especially good. Spiced and sweet. My mouth watered when he opened the package a bit and let me see. Wild hog, he said it was. I was very excited for that stuff.

I took a deep breath, tasting the oil and metal, with the faintest hint of flowers on my tongue, then nodded. “Alright, let’s go.”

* * *

 

From what I know about him, Zinnia was a good man, an android. He had every androids best intentions at heart. He strived, time and again, for a better future for them. I found data on tons of scrapped ideas and projects, half-formed then shut down for another one. He may have been a well-intentioned man, but I had the distinct feeling he was also a bit of a flake.

From what he wrote about out mission, it seemed like he wanted to stay with it. That might’ve been the plan for all I know. Maybe I would’ve met him. But it wasn’t long until I noticed these little side notes about the aliens and the machines. Sometimes I saw something about a man with a moon-head. Then they were more than just side notes, and they grew and grew until his entries were drowning in them.

And that’s when it stopped. All aliens, machines, and YoRHa. All that was left of our mission was a goodbye and a list of instructions to the Pods he left behind. Then we were just another addition to the pile of scrapped ideas and projects, and he was off to create something new.

Now YoRHa’s gone, and I’m here. I know it’s silly to be vindictive about it, but I wonder if Zinnia knew he chose the wrong hill to die on.

I wonder if he regretted it.

* * *

 

The walk was long, but it was nothing compared to the thirteen days, sixteen hours, fifty-six minutes, and thirteen seconds it took to get to the Resistance Camp. And this time, no desert!

They led Twelves and I closer to the ocean. The smell of salt started to scent the air, and it reminded me, painfully, of home. I didn’t even realize how much the air tasted different there, but it was hard to explain how. Grittier? A taste of exhaust? Of oil?

The second day, the wind picked up and with it came the first few droplets of light rain. I didn’t worry about them being water-proof, I already saw their specs. Soon enough, a cool, gentle drizzle came down on our heads. The cracked asphalt glittered in the quiet downpour. Broken street lamps cropped up here and there, and I wondered what this place looked like when they could still turn on.

“Is it close?” I asked, pausing to draw from my canteen.

Blacky pulled up a map of our position, a little red dot hovered practically next door. “We have nearly arrived.” It answered. “Our destination is on top the building a block away.”

I sighed, hooking my water back on my pack. “Alright.”

I would say it was a short walk, but the building was ridiculously tall. “This isn’t just some elaborate scheme to kill me, is it?” I asked half-seriously, peering up at the ledge far above me. “You’re not just trying to wear me out then push me off the building, right?”

“Pod: 153 to HL-6, the notion did not occur to us, and we do not wish to kill you.”

“Reassuring.”

“Pod: 012 to HL-6,” Twelves said, “I would not let that happen.”

“I know.”

Blacky and Whitey floated through the crumbling door. “Pod: 042 to HL-6, the building has partially collapsed.” Whitey explained. “You will have to finish the climb outside.”

I groaned, almost shouted in frustration. “Really!?” I growled, following them to the molded staircase. “Why the hell didja have to do it here, then?”

“So that no one would find them.” Whitey said.

I narrowed my eyes, trudging up the stairs. “Who?” I asked, suspicious.

They didn’t respond, I thought they wouldn’t answer. Then, Blacky said, “YoRHa units 9S, 2B, and A2.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter than my last chapter, but I do plan on all rest of them being closer to the first chapters length. More of a bridge chapter than anything.  
> ALSO, since it's Nanowrimo, I'll be focusing on a personal project for most of November. I might not update this until December.


	3. A2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOO it's been a while. Sorry for the wait, I was using nanowrimo to work on some personal projects. Thank you guys who've stuck with it!

“You’re kidding me.”

I stood on the staircase, five steps from the next floor, Twelves beside me. Blacky and Whitey floated a few feet ahead of us. They stopped and turned when they noticed we had stopped.

“No.” Whitey answered flatly.

I took a deep breath and raised my hand, silently asking for quiet. “You want me,” I began slowly, “to repair the same androids that were a part of YoRHa. The group that lied about humans and aliens, and probably a lot of other stuff we don’t know about.”

“Yes.” Whitey answered again.

I waited a good two seconds for them to give me something else, but nope. “Can you at least give me a good reason why?” I sighed.

The two of them thought about it for a few moments, then Blacky answered. “Because we miss them.” It said. “And they will help you.”

I grimaced, my heart tightened. “And what makes you so sure of that?”

“Because, HL-6,” Whitey said, “they are good people, and you are human. In every androids core, there is a need to help and protect the human race. They love you.”

I deflated, remembering the programming in every android. The artificial love. It wasn’t born naturally, just put there for convenience. It made me uncomfortable to say the least, like I got something I never actually earned.

“Right.” I muttered, rubbing my arm. “Fine, but if they kill me, Twelves has my permission to act as it see’s fit.”

“They will never kill you.” Twelves said, it’s voicebox fluctuated almost angrily.

Okay, dropping the subject. I won’t get killed. “That’s fair.” I sighed and pulled myself up a step. “Say that they’ll want to help me, what help will they give? How do you know they won’t return to restart YoRHa?” I asked. “I need that much in order to do this in good conscious.”

“They will not return to YoRHa.” Whitey said plainly. “There is nothing to return to. Nothing to restart.”

“A2 and 2B are models built for battle. They will act as your security as you continue your mission.” Blacky explained. “9S is a scanner type model that can find resources on your behalf. He is loyal to 2B and will do as she does.”

Her comment on 9S made me pause. “What, is he…” I waved my hand, “dangerous?”

Both were silent.

“In his final days,” Blacky said, “he… lost himself.”

Whitey piped in, “That is why we ask you. In him and 2B is a virus that drive androids mad.”

“The logic virus.” I nodded, “I’m familiar with it, but I’ve never tried to delete it, or cure it or whatever it is.”

“That is what we have been searching for. We think we may have found a solution. However,” Whitey said, “it will take time and experience. Pod: 153 and I will help as much as we are functionally able.”

Well, this was just getting more and more complicated by the second. Fantastic. Love complications.

Instead of coming to a decision about whether I wanted to do this or not, I admitted to the only thing I could agree on. “Whatever the case, a promise is a promise.” I grumbled, trudging up the last of the steps. “I’m not about to sully humans by being the first to break a promise. Let’s just go.”

The walk up the few flights was otherwise quiet. Water condensed on the cracked ceilings, dripping down in tempo. Must and dust swam with the scent of fresh rain and wet moss. The higher we went, the more holes appeared, like windows to the gray outside world. Despite the three companions with me, a visceral loneliness gripped my heart and wet my eyes.

Still somewhere between fighting and drowning, we came to the end of the road. The staircase had long crumbled and rotted away and our way was blocked by the remnants. It didn’t matter, for past the wreckage was no stairs at all.

Blacky and Whitey pointed us at a large hole in the side of the building, the entire outside was thick with ivy. I took a branch of it and pulled experimentally with my gloved hands. “It’ll hold.” I said doubtfully, “Can you stay close, Twelves, just in case?”

“Of course, HL-6.” It replied, hovering behind me.

The drizzle was still persisting, slicking the wiry ropes of vine, and still I had to climb. I took a few deep breaths and prayed it was a short trip down (not that I had the guts to look). I grabbed a handful and pulled myself onto the siding, digging my feet in for footholds. My heart was already beating hard against my ribs, and I feared the same limbs I relied on to keep me alive were going to start shaking next.

Desperately trying to ignore the self-preservation protocol I had no say in being in my organic brain, I climbed. Slowly, carefully seeking out the hardiest of the vines, trying to keep my feet from slipping on the wet ivy. It helped that Twelves was behind and slightly below me, ready to catch me if I fell.

The loneliness faded, if just a bit.

I struggled to focus on the lip of the roof, inching closer and closer with every step and pull. Unfortunately, the higher I climbed, the thinner the ivy became. I eventually came to a spot where I could no longer grab anything without pulling it out. And the roof was so close, just not close enough for me to reach.

My lips trembled as I tried to think my way out of this. Whitey and Blacky disappeared over the roof a few moments ago, but returned to peak at me over the leaves. Then, I saw Twelves in my peripheral, hovering beside me.

It opened it’s hand to me. “Pod: 012 to HL-6, hold on to me.”

I shivered from my gut to my spine. “But – Are you sure?” I asked, fighting not to look. “Can you pull me up?”

With no hesitation, it said, “I can try. I will not let you fall.”

Despite it’s reassurances, I did not want to let go of the one thing holding me up. What would happen if I let go? What if I brought Twelves down with me? These terrible thoughts turned over and over in my head as I let go of the wall with one hand. It boiled into a shriek when I reached out to Twelves, but my own heartbeat was drumming in my ears, enough to shut it out.

I took one of it’s hands in a death grip.

“Pod: 012 to HL-6, you are doing fine. Now, the other one.”

A pitiful whine bubbled from my throat at the very thought. Even so, I planted my feet firmly in the wires of vines and leaned closer. With a terrified shout, I threw my other hand towards it. For a moment, my stomach dropped when I met only the thin air and gravity, and then Twelves was there, solid and sturdy. My fingers wrapped around its other hand, still shaking with terror.

It rearranged us carefully, so that I was holding it around it’s middle and it was against my center of gravity. It’s arms moved like a vice against my back, holding me just a smidge too tight.

“Good job.” It soothed. “I have you secured, HL-6. I’m going to pull you up now.”

Without my voice, I could only nod. It pulled me up, my feet left the safety of the ivy. I crossed my ankles and pressed my face into the blank square panel. I closed my eyes and waited for it to be over. I didn’t relax until my hands gently bumped the mossy rooftop instead of smashing painfully on the asphalt below.

I shakily let go with one hand and leveraged myself on my elbow. “Thanks, Twelves.” I panted, pulling my knees onto the roof with me.

“You are welcome, HL-6.”

When my whole body, all fingers and toes included, were safe on the wet concrete I pushed my backpack off and fell onto my back. My lungs greedily pushed and pulled the air, rising up and down as the adrenaline ran the last of its course After a full, deep breath, I said, “Fuck!”

Having had enough the same gray sky, I rolled over and saw something very peculiar. Two androids, dressed in black with white hair laying in the middle of the rubble, surrounded by a field of white flowers. I got up for a closer inspection. The affects of the weather was beginning to show, frayed and threadbare clothes, dirty and smudged skin, knotted hair. The pieces of cloth covering their eyes were loose, and I gently peeled them back, revealing their open, sightless eyes. They had been dead for a while. And though they were synthetic, a dead body was still a dead body.

I crouched in the middle of them. A boy and a woman, their hands held between them. I wanted to berate the two Pods for leaving them out like this in the elements, but the question I asked caught me off guard. “Who are they?”

Blacky and Whitey hovered above me, looking down at us in the rain. “Those are units 2B and 9S.” Whitey answered.

“Oh.” And that was all I could articulate. “Why’d you leave them out here? Look at them.” I flicked the boy’s trousers, black threads hanging around his knees. “They’re rotting.”

“We couldn’t make a shelter.” Blacky said. “That is not in our programming.”

An exhausted sigh sunk my shoulders. “First things first, we have to make a shelter. Or find a way to bring them to the camp.” Then I looked out at the sea of collapsing rectangles. “But you probably have a reason for not bringing them there in the first place, if you took the time to bring them here.”

They did not answer.

I sighed again. “Okay.” And then I glanced around. “Where’s the third one?”

“Unit A2 is below.” Whitey said, floating towards a hole in the ground. “Follow me.”

Twelves hung by my shoulder as I followed Whitey to the hole. That part of the roof had collapsed in, making a sloping ramp to the floor below. I gingerly stepped over the rubble, careful of where I put my feet. When I met the floor, I took in the room.

It was overrun by vegetation, moss, vines, and near the window was a patch of flowers that glowed softly in the dim. Framed in the window was a curtain of white hair, I could see a long leg and part of an arm through it.

Something about the flowers tugged at both my memory and fascination, I had never seen such wonderous blooms in my life. They were very much like the ones above, perhaps they were the same. “Bioluminescents.” I whispered, stopping to take off my gloves and brush my fingers over one of the tender petals.

“That is called a lunar tear.” Whitey said, bringing my attention back to the android beside it.

If I didn’t know she was dead, I would’ve thought she was resting in the window sill, looking out at the world below her. I stood back up and stepped forward. Just as gentle as I was with the lunar tear, I brushed her hair out of the way, revealing her cheek and open eyes, unblinking, unseeing. The same wear and tear that I saw on 2B and 9S was apparent on this android, A2. Actually, she was in much worse shape, at least on the outside. Metal seems and skin had long worn away.

I frowned at Whitey. “I can’t believe you put her in the windowsill. Help me put her down.”

Together, with Whitey and Twelves, we maneuvered away from the window, reclining her on her back. I pushed the rest of her dirty hair out of her face. Even with her creepy, glassy stare, she was beautiful, even in death.

“A2 is the older model.” Whitey said. “She is not infected with the Logic Virus.”

Suddenly, my conundrum about who to repair first became a lot simpler. “Alright,” I said, softly tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ll work on her first. But I’ll need supplies. Tarps, some rods to make a tent over the two upstairs.” I reached under my hat to scratch my temple. “That list’ll get longer once I take a look inside.” I pointed a stern finger at Whitey. “But I’m not gonna even consider looking until I get a way to keep the vegetation from getting all over her like it’s done everything else.”

“We’ll call for an order from the Resistance.” Twelves said.

“They deliver?”

* * *

 

I watched the Pods pull up the supplies to the roof. “Holy shit, this makes things so much easier.” The two androids waved at me from below. I waved back cheerfully, happy to have some help. “THANK YOU!” I bellowed.

With another wave, they went on their way.

The three Pods deposited the box on the roof. “Did you give them their payment?” I asked as I dug through my backpack for my crowbar.

“Affirmative.” Twelves said.

I raised my crowbar in silent victory before plugging it into the boards and pulling them open. The weather had cleared in what counts for early morning and sunlight drifted lazily in pools of silver and gold. Warmth embraced my shoulders and back as I pulled the box apart, bringing a smile to my face.

Despite the bitterness just hanging on the edge of my tongue, reminding me of the ticking clock, I felt happy to have something to do. Back home there would sometimes be times when I had nothing to do, and ended up laying in bed for days, not wanting to eat, or shower, or even sleep. I couldn’t do anything if I didn’t have something to work on, something to put my everything into.

If I didn’t have that, I only felt empty.

And empty is the worst feeling.

It’s easy to drown in empty. When everything is an ocean with no beach or land in sight. You just keep going under and under until empty surrounds you and there’s nothing left. So deep and dark, no warmth or cold. Only empty.

I know enough now to know I have depression. I think it’s clinical, which means I’d probably let myself waste away if I could. If I didn’t have Twelves, or Water Lily, or the mission, I probably would have. Twelves doesn’t think I know, but I know it’s been trying to find ways to recreate antidepressants and other medicines. We have penicillin, all the important shots to make sure I don’t die of measles, or the flu. Just not the ones that would keep me from killing me.

It hasn’t had much luck.

The tent I pitched over 2B and 9S was quick work, but I needed all of us since I was the only one with five fingers. Instead of stakes it was kept down with magnetic weights. Four of them were heavy enough that I felt a burn in my arms and calves after I moved them to their places, and the other four were lighter but magnetized and kept the tent’s white canvas snug in between them.

When we were done, I grabbed a fistful and yanked hard. The tent wasn’t pulled off the ground. Satisfied, I peaked inside to check on the androids. We moved them so that they laid on a piece of tarp instead of the hard ground. The lunar tears that joined them inside glowed softly in the dimmed light.

With a nod, I closed and fastened the flaps of the tent. It was my next patients turn. With my arms full, I climbed down the rubble, finding the footholds easier than before. With a little jump, the sound of my boots on the dirt and concrete echoed in the rotting, flourishing chamber.

The three Pods appeared in the window and floated in. We quickly got to work. They pulled A2 up so I could unroll a tarp underneath her. I pulled her hair back as they set her down and fanned it around her, to keep it out of any exposed joints that I didn’t know about. Then, I began to set up the workshop.

I nailed white curtains in the window, in case of rain, and held them back by drilling in bent poles to keep them in place. I pulled them back and wrapped them around the iron and took in the sea of the city, a hint of a beach could be seen in the distance. A sharp wind blew the smell of salt inside and I took a deep breath, a fleeting whisper of homesickness carried it away.

My spot was put opposite of A2, my clothes, mat, and personals. In the middle, away from the flowers, I put my cooking station. And I built my station around her, so it was ready to go when I was.

When all was said and done, the day was just about gone. I pulled off my hat and wiped my brow with the back of my hand. “That’ll be it for today.” I said. “Make sure to use the charging station over there, guys.” I told the Pods, pointing to the compact electrical generator that was humming nearby. “I’m gonna heat up some water and bathe.”

Twelves putted towards the charging station and Blacky and Whitey went topside. I fired up the electrical stove and set a pot of clean water to heat up. I didn’t care if the Pods saw me naked, they’re Pods, but I did turn away from A2’s body with a modicum of embarrassment. After that, I settled down for dinner and a good long nap.

With Anemone’s approval, we’d be getting bi–weekly visits for food and any other things we’d requested. She hadn’t released the information about the aliens, or humans, or YoRHa yet. She was still trying to make sense of it herself, too.

I sat on my mat, heels in the cool grass. “Hey, Twelves?” I asked.

It came to life and released from the station. “Yes, HL-6?”

“Can we call Anemone? We should let her know we got the supplies.”

“Indeed.” It floated over to me and pulled up a hologram. The dots blinked one by one in a line, until the telltale circle spun for a moment and Anemone’s face appeared.

“Hello, HL-6.” She greeted pleasantly, but there was an exhausted edge in her voice.

“Hi, Anemone.” I said back, “We got your supplies today. Thank you again.”

She nodded, brushing back her black hair. “You’re welcome, of course.” She looked down, probably at her desk. I could hear the faint shuffle of paper. “I wanted to ask something of you.”

Despite growing weariness of favors, I told her to go on.

She was quiet for a few moments longer, then turned her face towards me through the holo. “When I eventually broadcast the truth, I need you to give a statement. As proof of humanity’s return, for your mission.”

A million things went through my head in the span of a few seconds, then replaced by white noise. “Oh, shit.” A million other things I could’ve said. That came out of my mouth instead. “Uh, when? When’s the thing gonna happen?”

She sighed and shrugged. “I have to prepare a speech. And I still have information that I have to comb through. I want to have all the facts before we continue onto telling everyone.” Her hair rustled in the faint wind. “There shouldn’t be any more half-truths.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I get it. But,” but I couldn’t find the words. “yeah, okay.”

I glanced at the clock by my mat. Another minute had passed us by.

* * *

 

I could feel the waves rise to my shins, which meant I had to prepare to swim. And if I couldn’t, I would drown.

Both options continue to terrify me.

* * *

 

The next day, I finished my preparations and got to work. A2 laid in the field of flowers, just as we had left her before.

“Okay.” I said as I stretched out my shoulders. “Whitey, Blacky, how does one get to the inner circuitry of a YoRHa type android?”

A hum of electricity, then Blacky popped up a hologram of their schematics. Whitey came to hover by my side. “Pod: 042 to HL-6, Pod: 153 will provide visual information as I will provide hands on assistance.”

A brief light beamed between Whitey and A2. I watched as her chest cavity opened behind her worn-thin top with raised brows. I coughed awkwardly and pulled up her shirt, trying to give her some respect by not ogling. I would have to admit, it was a little hard. I’ve never been that close to an android before. Ergo, I had never seen another person’s tits before. At least, not in real life.

Still, after the first few surprised and slightly embarrassing moments, I focused on the open chamber. The light Whitey ported had died fast after it opened, leaving it as dark as the alien’s catacombs. “Huh.” I hummed. “Twelves, can I get a light? Blacky, show me chest schematics.”

Twelves turned on it’s flashlight, illuminating the cavity. An intricate weave of wires and circuits and the hints of a metal skeleton were revealed. My eye caught on a sharp edge and I turned to Blacky’s holo. I found the spot and I tapped it. On screen appeared a black cube, littered with information.

“Black box?” I asked. “Mainly used as a YoRHa type androids source of power and their consciousness… Sometimes used as weapon as a last resort via black box reaction.” I made a noise in my throat. “Serious injury or even deactivation of the model may occur! It’s advised that all YoRHa androids’ be synced with the bunker before initiating Reaction?”

I gaped. “What kinda show are they running? Screw that. Okay…” I flicked through what was left, but everything else was vague at best. There certainly wasn’t much on how to reactivate it. Of course, they tell you how to destroy it but not how to fix it. Figures.

I turned back to A2. “Twelves, can you get this spot here, please?” I asked, pointing.

It turned the light onto the box, revealing the obsidian core. It was only barely hidden in the grave of metal muscle and circuits, meant for easy access. “Whitey, can you…?”

Another beam of light shot from between them, briefly reactivating the nervous system. The box pushed itself up towards my fingers, then it went dark once again. I gently undocked it and cradled it in my hands, running my fingers over the grooves of circuitry. Thoughts and plans rotated in my mind, bringing up questions and answers and equations.

“So, this is basically her heart.” I said. “And I know for humans, the heart is one of the two things that we can’t live without. That and our brain, or I guess for an android that would be her processor.” I glanced back over the schematics. “How volatile is a black box, anyway? And how do I fix it?”

“If you are referring to the black box reaction,” Blacky began, “it is only activated by the android user or by contact with another black box.”

I had no way to prepare myself for what it would say next. “A black box is created by reusing machine cores. We can provide the appropriate machine parts to repair one.”

I swear I could hear a drop of condensation hit the floor below. “They’re made from machines?” I whispered, eyes falling back on the object in my hands. “That seems somehow backwards.” My gaze focused on her face again. “Do they even know?”

“9S and A2 are aware of the nature of the black box.” Whitey answered. “2B is not.”

I breathed out my nose, looking back at the cube in my hands. “And how well did they take the news?”

“A2 recovered better than 9S.”

The boy appeared in my mind’s eye. I would have to be careful with him. I was also more and more reassured by my choice to wake A2 before them.

I gently placed the cube aside. “Fantastic. Now, for my second query.”

“Yes?”

I pointed at the box. “Should I fix the black box first, or should I focus on other parts?”

The three of them were silent as they processed my question. Finally, Blacky said, “Repairing the black box and processor will help Pod: 042 and I find the sources of any other malfunctions. We recommend you begin with those two items in that order.”

The black box almost seemed to stare back at me. “That makes things easier.” I muttered. “What do we need?”

“Pod: 012 to HL-6, Machine cores can be bought and sold at most Resistance camps.” Twelves said, still overlooking A2’s insides. “If undamaged, you can also salvage them from machines themselves.”

A groan fought up my throat. I rubbed my brows, thinking of the Resistance androids that had just left yesterday, and the perilous walk up and down the building. “Fiiine.” I rumbled, looking out the open window.

Then, an idea came to me. My rifle was sitting beside my mat, fresh from its weekly cleaning. “Are there any machines around?” I asked.

Twelves turned off the flashlight and went to the window, where it stayed for a bit. “Machine lifeforms confirmed.” It finally said. “The herd is four hours out, but heading this way in a steady pace.”

“Oh, perfect.” I sat up and carefully put the box on my desk. “Time for breakfast. Let me know when they’re five – ten minutes away.”

A little less than four hours later, they had arrived.

A small machine was waddling behind the herd, dutifully following a slightly larger model. The way it drifted behind the group, looking around the world with wide eyes reminded me of something I didn’t wish to think of, not in this context.

It stopped in the street a block or so away, my advanced scope keeping steady track of the tiny thing below. I could see the slight shake in its’ limbs, the gears inside it’s rusting metal chassis working hard to keep it alive. Its’ focus was on something on the cracked asphalt, probably a bug that grabbed it’s curiosity –

But machines don’t have curiosity - a pull at the nape of my neck reminded me of the dead android behind me – ,right?

My finger twitched over the trigger, my stomach turned when I forced it down. I had to watch as one by one, it’s functions failed, and it’s body hit the ground.

My hands were quick to put the gun and it’s scope away. The rest of me was thankful. “Guys, can you-?”

“We can retrieve the machine core, HL-6.” Twelves said. “Stay here.”

Another somersault pulled my gut. “Yeah.” I murmured. “Be careful.”

I watched them drift out of the window, one by one. Their decent scattered some pigeons that had been roosting above us.  

* * *

 

The thing about depression is that it’s never gone, really. Especially without any help, medicine, a therapist. I’m perpetually standing in the shallows, and that might be the rest of my life.

This could be the rest of my life. Feeling like this. And if I fail? If I fail everything?

What would be the reason to stay, when I can’t even preform my only use?

The water is rising, and the clock is ticking.

* * *

 

If I didn’t know that the core in my hands and the box on the shelf were one and the same, I wouldn’t have even guessed it. But that was only on the outside. There was likely a lot more going on in the inside than appearances suggested.

I spent the rest of the afternoon carefully picking apart the machine core, finding what was useful and what was broken. The more I dug, the more surprised I became. My specialized bullets did barely anything to this, despite the fried circuit here or there. It was mostly intact, and definitely functional.

My back hit my chair and I was left scratching my head. I’ll readily admit, I’ve never taken the time to actually dig through a machine I took out before. If it worked, it worked! But now, I wonder, does it? Or does it just not work the way I thought it did?

After a little more thought, I figured that it might’ve just shut down the connection between the core and it’s systems. Maybe. I wouldn’t be able to figure that out until I got my hands on a whole specimen. But there wasn’t time for that, I had stuff to do.

Blacky hovered in front of me, the holo of a black box at the ready.

I glanced between them, the real one and the image with a deepening frown. “No schematics?” I asked. “No inside images?”

“No.” It answered, something a little forlorn in its’ voice. “Because of the nature of the black box, we Pods were not allowed to have any more information than what you see now. We cannot offer any more.”

“Oh.” I huffed, turning back to the box. “I guess… we’ll just have to try not to break it, then.” I glanced at my clock, confirming that I should be asleep and probably eat, but I didn’t want to get up. Not until I could at least safely open A2’s heart.

I picked up two thin tools and began to gently prod the thin chasms of lines that crossed the box. “I suppose you can’t just do that light thingy and open it, right?”

“If we could, we would’ve done so a long time ago.” Whitey answered. “That is why we need you.”

“Fair point.”

The light outside didn’t change as I sat and worked. It never did. And yet, I liked to imagine that the sun that beamed overhead had dipped below the horizon, like back home, and then even further beyond. Just like in the stories from the old humans. Something about the passage of day after night seemed so romantic to me, like true love. Maybe it’s because I never experienced it for myself.

I imagined that the first beam of sunlight in the wee hours of the morning would be making it’s return when I finally found the keylock. My wrists ached in their sockets after hours upon hours of repeated motions, my back ached after being hunched over, but the little _snip-clack_ of the lock turning was enough for me to forget all of it.

A little panel creakily slid to the side with an encouraging nudge. I threw my hands up and whooped, only to be sharply reminded of all my aching joints.

I promptly rolled towards my mat and fell asleep.

The next day, I realized just how closely the two were connected. After that, the lines between days blurred together and faded into a familiar monotonous pattern. I did everything I could, fixed what I could and rebuilt from scratch what I couldn’t. I worked until my fingers blistered and my shoulders locked up.

As another day came and went, and I gently cleaned A2’s joints and the dirt from her hair, I began to understand Twelve’s more and more. It’s hard not to get attached when you’ve put so much work into something, especially when that something is a life.

Memories of a certain day bubbled underneath the surface and I tried to force them away, far far away. I didn’t want this feeling to be tarnished by that terrible, disastrous day. I wanted to keep this warm, and happy.

When my attention wandered, I would drag it back by talking to A2. I talked about a lot, things I learned about her inner mechanisms, what I thought about Anemone and the Resistance, I talked about my life with Twelves and Water Lily. It was mostly babble, just things for me to remember to forget when I settled back into the rhythm. I kept the radio on, to keep myself from being lonely, just like I did back in the bunker.

I was looking forward to what she someday might say back.

* * *

 

One thing I never talked about was the time I tried to kill myself.

When I was just past being a teenager, twenty or so, I beat myself black and blue. I don’t remember much of it, just remember slamming my head over and over, feeling so utterly wasteful and useless. Wanting it to be over, and feeling guilty for that. For being broken. Out of all the potential possibilities, why did I make it? When I was so stupid and useless?

Why didn’t she live? Why did I fail?

Why did the broken one make it?

… I would wake up later on the floor, bloody and broken. Water Lily found me there, she thought I died and started crying. I didn’t know what to do, but wish I had.

I didn’t want her to know about that. They depend on me. They don’t need to know their last hope is broken.

* * *

 

It took forty days. The day she woke up was when I did, too.

* * *

 

The first thing I was aware of was darkness, drifting, nothing. And then, I realized that I was aware of anything at all.

“Hello?”

If I could’ve flinched, or grabbed for a weapon, I would have. The voice cut through everything unlike I’d experienced before, and when it was gone I was afloat once again. Caged.

The voice came again not long after, “Um, can you hear me…?”

If I could’ve spoken, I would’ve, but I had no mouth. No teeth, no voice. No nothing.

“Oh! Oh, crap, hold on. Hey, Whitey, can you connect to her so we can communicate somehow? I think I maybe did something wrong with the wires…”

Then, a wonderfully familiar voice said, “One moment, HL-6.”

I waited, so excruciatingly aware of the complete and utter nothing surrounding me that I thought I would go mad. Then, there was something. A nudge in the back of my processor that I had gotten used to before, but was so sharp and blinding in this nothing nothing nothing. It left me oversensitive and weak.

A voice spoke from inside this time, gentle and calm.

_“Pod: 042 to A2, I have connected our consciousnesses. Please, do not be alarmed, you are not in any danger. Your responses are being shown so that HL-6 may communicate with you and continue to repair you.”_

_What?_

“Aha!” That voice said again. “Awesome, it works. Thanks, Whitey.”

_“You are welcome, HL-6.”_

_What the hell is an HL-6?_

“I can answer that.” They said again. “I was asked to repair you by Whitey and Blacky here. It’s nice to finally meet you, A2.”

The connection between Pod: 042 and I still felt like blinding currents of light, but for that moment I went numb once again.

_You what, Pod?_

_“Pod: 153 and I wish to see you, 2B and 9S alive and well again.”_ It answered, patience and warmth flowed through the light. _“All things will be explained in time, A2. For now, please help us finish your reparations.”_

I could feel my frustration return, but I obviously had no choice in this. I obviously didn’t have the time to debate whether or not I wanted to be repaired.

 _You. HL-6,_ I said, _what is this place?_

* * *

 

I watched the text scroll across Whitey’s holo with nervous excitement. She was awake, and aware! But, I probably messed up royally, somewhere. Great.

“Well, I don’t know.” I said. “I’m sorry. I think I might’ve connected your processor to your senses wrong, but our blueprints on YoRHa type models have” I rolled my eyes “much to be desired. But I think we can figure it out with you on the inside.”

I glanced at Blacky, who was helpfully projecting their vague processor schematics. “What’s your subconscious supposed to look like?”

For a moment, she didn’t answer. Then, her black text scrawled over the sandy projection.

_Pixelated. Mostly blocks and thin paths. This couldn’t be more far off._

I hummed, narrowing my eyes at her description. “Okay, I’m gonna open your head for a bit. Please let me know if you feel any pain or discomfort, because that’s not supposed to happen.” With that, I returned to sitting behind her. She was propped up by some blocks and cushions, revealing a hidden panel from the nape of her neck to the crown of her skull. Whitey and Blacky followed.

“Is there anything else?” I asked. “About your subconscious. Any other details?”

She thought for a second. _Beige._

I glared offhandedly at both Pods bland holos. “Yep, that sounds about right.” I pulled my thin little tools and began to gently pull and reconnect wires. “Keep talking, ma’am.” I said. “Just want to make sure I don’t unplug something I shouldn’t.”

_What am I supposed to say?_

I shrugged. “Anything you want. Maybe something like, uh, check? Or here?”

_Fine. Here._

This went on once every minute for five minutes until

_Finally._

I popped my head up and smiled at the sightless screen. “It’s back?”

_Yeah. What’s next?_

“Well, what do you have right now?”

_Just my sub-processor, my connection to 042, and my audio. Nothing else._

A low hiss pulled from between my teeth. “Not great.” I drummed my fingers on my knee. “So, here’s the checklist. We need to get your sight, speech, smell, touch, taste, and motor controls before we turn on your pain and pleasure senses.”

_Why in that order?_

“Doesn’t have to be in that order.” I said, grinning a little despite myself. “Except for that last one. It’s because I’m literally digging around in your head right now, and that probably wouldn’t feel good.” I knelt with my tools at the ready. “Which one do you want first?”

A half a minute passed by.

_Sight._

“Alright. Let me know if you experience any changes. And don’t be afraid to go looking on the inside too, or test anything out if you think it’ll help.”

_Right._

Okay, I know she was being a bit chilly, but I couldn’t help but still feel happy. She was awake. She was awake! Even with the complications, her personality and memories seemed intact. And we were talking, and soon she’d be functional and able to walk around and do whatever she does.

 _Holy fuck_ , I realized, needles in the air, _I ju_ _st brought someone back from the dead._

… Probably should have realized that sooner.

* * *

 

I walked through the catacombs of white and beige, my body as I remembered it mostly. My heels clacked against the pixels as I ran a hand through my hair. It was long again, but not as long as it was before 2B. It swayed against the middle of my back, brushing against my elbows as I walked on.

“Ohh-kay.” HL-6 said, “I think I fixed the outside problem, but can you see anything?”

I tried to activate my sight, but nothing. _No._

They cursed quietly, muttering to themself, then they said. “Maybe it’s something on the inside?”

 _“There is a way to activate your senses from your sub-processor, if possible.”_ 042 advised. _“I will open a neural pathway.”_

Just a little forward and I came to a branching path. Looking down the left, it just went on and on, and on the right there was a pedestal. Obvious is obvious; I turned right and pressed the button there.

I felt the shift, aware that I had my eyes back, and relished in another chain coming loose. The beige faded away, and I was met by concrete and a patch of flowers.

And when I saw them, I don’t know how I knew but I _knew_. Maybe it was the dewiness of their eyes, a peak of the inside of their lips, chapped and red. Maybe I could sense or hear the pump of their blood, the echo of their breath.

I stopped the message from being broadcasted, but I thought, _A human._

Due to everything that I found out about YoRHa and humans those last few weeks, confusion was the least of my worries.

_How the fuck?_

They turned to look at something, then answered. “How the fuck what?”

 _Nothing._ I was quick to answer. _Next is speech._

The next few whatever how many moments of my life was switching back and forth from my processor to the outside world. Those beautiful blooms, and the human. The very much alive human. Who somehow brought me back to life.

Did I even want to be back?

Before I could answer the question, HL-6 appeared in my vision again, smiling slightly. Purple bags weighed heavy below their eyes, and yet, they managed to keep them open. “Alright, how’s everything feeling, ma’am?”

I ran a quick diagnostic through 042, and was satisfied. “It’s fine. And don’t call me ma’am.”

A noise vibrated through their throat, followed by a little head tilt. I didn’t think humans could make noises like that. “Then, are you okay with me calling you A2?”

“That’s fine.” I said, trying not to think too hard on that little noise and mannerism. Then they smiled, eyes somehow brighter. Humans are weird. They’re weird.

“Alright A2, I’m gonna tap your shoulder.” They said, then I felt a little vibrate. “Feel that?”

“Yes.”

“Great! Are you ready to get your senses back?”

“I’ve been ready since I woke up.”

They nodded and disappeared behind me again. “You might feel a pinch and some discomfort as they come online. Let me know if it’s too much and I can maybe slow it down.”

I waited, and it came. Slowly at first, then it felt like every sensation lit up one by one in rapid fire. I grunted, and my body flinched against the plastic tarp I could suddenly feel beneath my legs. Two hands held my head in place, keeping it from slamming back as my shoulders forced a small pillow to fall into the grass.

HL-6 gasped from behind me. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I bit, gritting my teeth against the onrush of sensations. Now I could feel the stiffness in my tongue and jaw, and everywhere else, too. It reminded me all too much of when the ground split apart and the arc appeared.

To top it all off, Pod: 042 hovered in front of me. “Good morning, A2.”

“Pod…” I sighed. I reached out, it felt so natural, and gave the little annoyance a pat on the head. Something pinched me in the back of my neck and I whipped around with a yelp, only to find the human sitting there. Wide eyed, tools in their hands, a little frown on their face.

* * *

 

“How is this possible?”

I blinked. “How’s what - ? You mean being alive?”

A2 shook her head, rearranging herself to crouch before me. Even a year or so under, she moved so fast, so fluidly. “How is it,” She began, gray eyes narrowed at me, “that you’re a human? Alive, here, right now?”

“Oh,” I deflated. “that.”

She waited, unmoving. Obvious is obvious, she wasn’t going anywhere without answers.

“Okay,” I took a deep breath, making a checklist in my head. “So, the moonbase, you know about that?”

“The Council of Humanity isn’t up there.” She answered, “It never was.”

I nodded, “Yep. Then, ah – “ I shouted behind me, “Twelves! A2’s awake!”

“Who’s Twelves?” She growled.

“My Pod.” I said, putting my hands up and trying to come off as nonaggressive as possible. “It has more information on our mission in it’s databanks. But I can give you the short version.”

“Short version, now.”

I trembled, both afraid and a little excited. “The creator of YoRHa, Zinnia, if you know his name, created a mission to restart the human race before he continued with you guys.” I said quickly. “I’m Human Lifeform Number Six, or HL-6 for short. Like my Pod’s Pod: 012, but I call it Twelves.

“We’re on a mission to bring back humans. I was the first,” then, bitterly, “and the last successful attempt.” I nodded towards Blacky and Whitey, and spotted Twelves coming down the hole. “These two stumbled on me and asked me to patch them up in exchange for information. And then they asked me to fix you! And now we’re here.” I waved my hands. “Ta-da.”

Her eyebrows slowly crawled up her forehead the more I spoke, but before she could ask any more questions herself, Twelves came to my shoulder.

“Pod: 012 to the YoRHa type android, A2,” It said, “kindly back away from HL-6.”

I had to laugh at the look she gave it. “It’s protective. But I do need to put these tools away, and you need to refuel.” I waved my needle at a jug of water nearby. “Help yourself.”

Slowly, she fell back onto her shins, still crouching at the ready, watching me as I cleaned up. “How are you feeling?” I asked, glancing at her over my shoulder. “Anything feel weird?”

Carefully, still watching me like a hawk, she picked up the jug and shook her head. “No.”

I tried to give her a comforting smile. “Good, I was a little worried there for a while.” My hands automatically knew where to put what, but I made sure anyway. My hands were shaking a little. “I’ve never repaired an android before. If anything does feel out of place, please let me know.”

She took a long draw from the jug, then pulled it from her lips. “Why are you helping me?”

My tool fell from my fingers, hitting the others with a sharp _clack_. “Sorry?”

“Why?” She asked again, rising to her feet. “You did your job. What else are you here for?”

It felt like I was getting scolded, and I hadn’t been scolded in a while. I knotted my fingers together as I tried to think of a response that wouldn’t get me thrown out of the window or with her stomping off. Besides Jackass and Anemone, I’ve never really talked to a woman before. Water Lily doesn’t count. And A2 could probably kick my ass in less than a second.

“Well, uh,” I tried, “I guess, I’m just happy? That you’re okay?” I shrugged, unable to meet her eyes. A heat rose to my cheeks. “It would’ve really sucked if you weren’t okay, after all of that.”

She said nothing, her face was surprisingly blank. I shrugged towards the ceiling. “I also have to fix the two up top. 2B and 9S.”

A sharp breath lifted her chest. “They’re here?”

“Yeah.” I said, “Did you know them?”

Just like that, her mouth puckered and her expression soured. “Sort of.” She whispered. “It’s complicated.”

“I hear that.” I tried to laugh. When her expression didn’t change, I said softly, “You can stay here, and help me put them together if you want.” When she met my eyes, I backed off a bit. “I won’t make you, of course. In case there’s places you need to be.”

I really wanted her to need to be there. Even if it was just because of some fake feelings programmed into her. Like loneliness was programmed into mine. But, that was the truth. I wasn’t going to stop her.

When she just stood there, mulling it over silently, I walked around her, giving her space. It seemed like she needed it. And just like that, I crawled into a sparse patch of lunar tears by the window, and did what I always did when I was done with a project. I fell asleep.

When I woke up, she was there, sitting by my knees, her arms resting on her thighs. The sun silhouetted her, blinking off strands of her hair as it moved in the short breeze. A2 stayed.

“Good morning.” I breathed, rubbing my eyes. “Did you rest any?”

After a moment of silence, she shook her head. Then, she turned her gaze to me. It was sharp, careful, unsure. It was nice to see them alive.

“What’s this mission?” She asked, plain and simple.

I grunted and stretched out on the grass. “To bring back humanity?” I mumbled, “We need androids to help us start over. Teachers, scientists, engineers, parents, bodyguards…” I covered my yawn with the back of my hand, meeting her eyes over my palm. “It’s a hard job to do with just one human and a Pod.”

She was quiet again, looking out to the small sea of tears. “What about the machines?”

My hands folded over my stomach. “I don’t know yet.” I admitted quietly. “My plan was to revive the other two, then focus on that part again.”

She said nothing, only picked up the jug of water and drank again.

* * *

 

I saw them collapse in the grass and felt panic sweep through me. I cursed and was at their side in a second, the water forgotten behind me.

The mouthy Pod, the one with mismatched parts and old equipment, hovered beside me. “Do not be alarmed, A2.” It said. “HL-6 is only sleeping. They’ve been working very hard to wake you up again.”

My hands hovered over them, moving easier and easier with every moment. If I remembered correctly, my joints hadn’t felt like this in a long time. I pushed that thought away with a small grunt. “How do I check their pulse?” I asked.

The Pod considered me for a moment before a holo appeared before me, showing fingers on a neck and on the wrists.

“You can check for a pulse in the wrists and on the jugular vein under the jawbone.” It answered. “Be careful of how much pressure you use, you do not want to cut off the blood circulation, and you could hurt them.”

I couldn’t stop my flinch at that thought. A thought that was not mine said this: _To hurt a human, to hurt this human, would be the worst thing you have ever done._

I gently cradled their hand in mine and pressed to fingers to the inside of their wrist. The wait wasn’t long, and a rhythm beat against my fingers. A brief flood of happiness washed over me, again not my own, and I cautiously chased after it.

My fingers gently poked against the soft underside of their jaw until a stronger rhythm hit my fingers again. I marveled at the seamless skin, soft all the way through, and the slow breathing and their closed eyes. I knew what humans were supposed to look like, that they were different from us in small but important ways, but to see one in real life. To touch one…

It should’ve been impossible.

I fought my programming and sat back, watching their breathing. “So,” I said to the Pod, “they’re human.”

“Yes.” It replied with a hint of pride.

And my mind was reeling once again. The impossible was somehow possible. “Pod: 042,” I asked. “how long has it been, since the arc?”

It came to hover beside me. “It has been a little over a year since it’s destruction.”

I felt myself shake my head in wonder. “And the machines?”

“From what we can tell,” It said, “it is largely the same as it was. The machines have reverted to their original selves.”

I was brought back to a factory and a friend. Where was he now?

With another look at the human asleep among the flowers, I sat back with my thoughts. I had a lot to sift through.


End file.
